Duo Maxwell and the Amber Room of Gold
by Daimeryan Rei
Summary: After his adventure in Tibet, Duo Maxwell returns home with Heero and receives a request from the military organization known as The Alliance to retrieve paintings lost during WWII. He travels to Eastern Europe and soon discovers that's not all he's supposed to retrieve…
1. Chapter 1

Title: Duo Maxwell and the Amber Room of Gold  
Fandom: Gundam Wing  
Pairings: established Heero and Duo

Genre: AU, action/adventure with light angst/drama/romance  
Warnings: Duo's potty mouth, some violence. Shounen ai.  
Summary: After his adventure in Tibet, Duo Maxwell returns home with Heero and receives a request from the military organization known as The Alliance to retrieve paintings lost during WWII. He travels to Eastern Europe and soon discovers that's not all he's supposed to retrieve…

Author's note: unbeta-ed. Sequel to "Duo Maxwell and the Sword of the Khan", following the same Tomb Raider-ish concept (not a cross-over), but can be read as a stand-alone. Some references to people and events from the Tomb Raider comics, movies, and/or games.

Key: - = scene change

* * *

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Amen."

"Amen."

Silent, not having prayed along with the others, Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy watched as the simple coffin was gently lowered into the open grave. Heero put his hand on Duo's shoulder to show him his support. He would've taken his hand, but Duo sat in a wheelchair because of his broken leg, a souvenir from his adventure in Tibet. It wasn't healed yet, and Duo couldn't stand on it for long, even if he wanted to. Heero wasn't disturbed at Duo's lack of response; he knew he was too occupied with his own grief. Jeeves Wilson, Hillary's father, had passed away. He had been into the Maxwell family's service for as long as Duo could remember, and it was hard to accept that the man was gone. He died of heart failure, and Duo was convinced it was because of the eventful night when Marco Bartoli's men had 'visited' the Maxwell Manor. Their brutal violence when searching for Marshall Noventa's notes had caused the man a heart attack, and now, not much later, he was dead. The sadness was overwhelming and Duo kept touching his silver crucifix, a gift from his mother, who had also passed away, years ago - it was a painful reminder of his own loss. Duo felt guilty and avoided to look at Hillary, who stared at the lowering coffin, his eyes blank and refusing to believe what he was seeing, and his face paler than a ghost.

The Wilson family was fairly small. The other attendants were a few far-removed cousins and personal friends of Jeeves'. Elderly people, shaking their heads at another friend or relative gone, mumbling about death claiming another good person. It was depressing. Now that all the burial rituals were taken care of, the attendants walked by the grave for one last token of respect. Hillary, Duo, and Heero were the last to remain.

"I want you to take all the time you need, Hillary," Duo said. He looked up at the other man, deeply hating that he had to sit in a wheelchair.

"Thank you, Master Maxwell," Hillary answered. There was an obvious hitch in his voice. He was about to say more, but one of the attendants walked up to him, wanting to talk about Jeeves. Heero nodded at Hillary and moved Duo and the wheelchair along, back to the small auditorium, where the attendants were served coffee and something to eat before returning home again.

"I really, really hate funerals," Duo said.

"Me too. We should go back to the Manor. You need to rest."

"I haven't exerted myself today, Heero."

"The funeral was exerting in itself. Besides, I know you tried to pick up your regular exercises, against your physician's wishes. It's a complicated fracture, Duo. You're not in a wheelchair for nothing."

"Only because my leg can't support my weight yet. For crying out loud, I'm not a baby!"

Without further comment, Heero wheeled Duo to the black limousine and planted him firmly in the backseat, ignoring his grumpy look. Driving was out of the question, and he loved driving any kind of vehicle. Heero instructed the chauffeur to take them back to Maxwell Manor before he got in himself. Duo stared in front of him.

"You have to accept that you're going to be… limited in your actions for a while."

"I hate sitting still," Duo said. "I hate sitting behind my desk and doing nothing!"

"Spending attention to the Maxwell Foundation isn't 'doing nothing'," Heero reminded him. "There's a huge backlog of artefacts waiting to be added to the catalogue, and I saw a huge pile of interview requests on your desk. People all over the world want to hear about your adventures!"

"It's not the same as going _on_ an adventure," Duo still pouted. A dramatic sigh, and he relented. "I'm sorry, I'm whining. You're right, I have to spend more time on the Foundation."

"Besides, there's this whole renovation thing going on," Heero said dryly. Marco Bartoli and his criminal friends had destroyed the entire atrium, and hadn't been skipping on explosives either. "In case you forgot. Let's just agree for now that you'll deal with that, and I'll deal with anything else." Heero looked out the window. Ever since Duo Maxwell had returned to the archaeological field like a prodigal lost son, he had reclaimed two priceless artefacts: the Never-Ending Circle and the Sword of Kol An Anuum. People all around wanted something of him, and not all of them had his best intentions in mind. Heero made sure to weed out all the fanatics, idiots and total quacks, and took care of Duo in the background, allowing his lover to stand in the spotlights, which Duo adored. Even though he didn't say it out loud now, Heero was convinced that it was good for Duo to be confined to paperwork for a while. The Foundation was in desperate need of an update for its catalogue, the damaged collection of the library needed to be rebuild, the entire collection of armoured suits needed to be checked for repairs, and that was just scratching the surface.

"What's in the current request pile?" Duo asked.

"Egypt, Syria and Texas," Heero answered.

"Texas?"

"Something about a ghost town… I can't believe all those people coming out of the woodwork with their strange stories."

"The strangest stories are often the truest ones," Duo said philosophically. He reclined into the seat and wiggled a little, trying to find a comfortable position for his leg.

"Are you in pain?"

"A little. It's not as much pain as it is annoying. I feel restless."

"I understand. As soon as we're home, you're going to lie down. You're exhausted."

"Funerals always drain my energy. Poor Hillary. It's such a blow to him. He adored his father."

"It wasn't your fault, Duo. No one expected this to happen."

"If only I were a scholar like my father, this wouldn't have happened."

"You would've been extremely unhappy," Heero reminded him. "Like you said yourself, you hate sitting behind a desk. You're not made to sit still. Your father appreciated the knowledge and the artefacts, you appreciated the adventure and the quest to retrieve them."

"I know. But if I hadn't done the things I did, Solo would still be alive and Hillary wouldn't have lost his father."

If Duo was in a depressing mood like this, Heero didn't comment much. It would only lead to a heated discussion and eventually in a fight, and it wasn't worth it. Solo, Duo's older brother, had been a bookworm until he joined Duo in his adventures, discovering and retrieving more artefacts than anyone else. It all came abruptly to an end when Solo drowned during an expedition to Atlantis; he washed ashore with strange shards of metal embedded into his hands.

Instead of ending up in a discussion leading to nothing, Heero simply put his hand on Duo's knee. This time, Duo put his hand over his and squeezed. The remainder of the trip to Maxwell Manor passed in complete, but not uncomfortable silence.

* * *

As soon as they arrived home, their new housekeeper approached Heero. Theresa Longbottom-Hampfordshire had decided to automatically defer to him, even though it was Duo's Manor and he was standing next to Heero. She had come highly recommended by Hillary and she took care of his tasks now that he was indisposed. Heero had performed a thorough background check on the brisk woman, who had been widowed at quite a young age and never remarried. She had served her entire life as a nanny for families in the high society, meanwhile taking care of her own children. Heero had been impressed with her resume, and knew Hillary had made a good choice. Within a few days, Theresa had the entire household and kitchen under control.

"Would you like me to serve dinner now, Master Yuy?"

"Yes Theresa, thank you. Please serve in the small dining room."

"I'm not really hungry," Duo muttered. He had walked the small distance from the limousine to the entrance of the Manor, but he was leaning heavily on Heero, as if all his energy had drained. Heero shifted a little to support him, when Theresa handed him Duo's cane.

"Here you are, Master Yuy."

"Thank you, Theresa." Heero handed the cane to Duo who used it to regain his balance. He immediately walked away from Heero, ignoring Theresa who shot him a compassionate look. Heero figured the woman saw him as the 'weaker' one, one who needed to be coddled and looked after as a small child, and he made a mental note to set this image straight. If there was someone who didn't need any coddling, it was Duo - but right now, Theresa wasn't one of his priorities.

"Duo, eat a little bit, and then you're going to rest. No ifs and buts about it, mister."

"Yes, dad."

"Come on, Duo."

"Yeah, yeah. First, I want to get out of these clothes. This kind of black doesn't suit me."

Heero watched his retreating back; he let him go without another word.

* * *

A few days later, the daily grind of life went on, but not everything had returned to normal. Two nephews of Hillary, Alister and Zip, were added to the Maxwell Manor's household. Duo himself had contacted Alister, a doctoral student at Oxford who would help him with rebuilding the library, cataloguing the artefacts and structuring the files and archives of the Maxwell Foundation. His extensive historical knowledge would be of great use and a welcome addition to streamline the massive collection, build up through the decades. Zip, a computer expert, doubled as a handyman around the Manor. Hillary was a dedicated and efficient butler, but he couldn't turn a screw loose. Zip was handy with all kinds of tools, and as soon as he found out that his knowledge of computers and security systems paled to Heero's, he switched his keyboard for screwdrivers and a hammer, to help out with the ongoing renovation.

Heero hadn't had any objection to the new arrivals. The Manor was large enough to house more people, and it wasn't like they couldn't use the help. The Maxwell Foundation was far too much work for one man alone, and Heero couldn't help out with the renovations and the general upkeep of the Manor. Besides, both men's ability to cook was disastrous, not to mention the general chores of vacuuming and cleaning. Before he moved in with Duo, Heero had only bothered to put clean sheets on his bed, and that was it. The new personnel brought new life to the Manor, which was very welcome as Duo had been in a terrible mood as of late. His frustrations were great; while still grieving for Jeeves' loss, his exercise routine was also still too much for his body to take, his leg bothering him, and the lack of progress added more and more to the initial frustration.

In his office, Heero had all the silence and space he needed to concentrate on his own work. He had chosen one of the unused rooms at the end of the north wing, not far away from Duo's office. True to his Japanese heritage, Heero had carefully selected a few pieces of lacquered, wooden furniture to represent his roots, and combined it with slightly more modern pieces to create an environment to his liking. Just as he was about to read his e-mail, he heard a small cough. He looked up. Theresa was standing in the door opening, a little nervous.

"Yes, Theresa?"

"There are visitors at the door, Master Yuy."

"We receive people with an appointment only, not at the door."

"I know, Master Yuy. The man told me to give you this."

She walked up to his desk and almost reverently, handed Heero a small piece of paper. It was a business card and Heero flipped it over, staring at the embossed name.

"All right, Theresa. Please show them to the grey office. I'll be there soon."

"Should I inform Master Maxwell?"

"I will deal with these gentlemen."

Theresa left to fulfil her task, while Heero stared at the business card. What did the Alliance want from Duo Maxwell? A military force without an army, it was an ancient remnant of a time when wars had destroyed entire countries and nations. Members of the Alliance were addressed with military titles, but they didn't despatch or deploy militaries to war zones. His curiosity was piqued.

* * *

The grey office was one of the simplest rooms to receive guests; perfectly neutral grounds, as Duo would say. Heero wasn't sure if he was going to regret keeping Duo out of this sooner or later, but he wanted to meet up with the people from the Alliance himself. When he opened the door, the guests had arrived already. A tall, rigid man was standing in front of the window, admiring the view. The gardens surrounding Maxwell Manor were renowned for their roses, wild herbs and intricate designs. The man was clad in a military-green uniform with golden tassels on the shoulders, his hands covered by white gloves. He sported a small moustache, and his black hair was receding, revealing an impressive, large forehead. The other visitor, an impeccably clad man with glasses and tan skin, was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs. He got up immediately when Heero entered the room.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Heero said. "My name is Heero Yuy. Mister Maxwell is unavailable at the moment. As his companion, I'm fully up-to-date with his business so you can address your request to me."

"Good afternoon, Mister Yuy. I'm pleased to meet you." The man took off his hat, matching his expensive suit. "My name is Inspector Acht." He waved at the man standing in front of the window. "This is my colleague in this matter, General Septem."

A general, no less. Heero wanted to ask why the Alliance needed the services of an archaeological adventurer, when Theresa came in with a huge tray. She poured the tea and put a large étagère with cookies, chocolates and scones on the small table before leaving again.

"This matter," Heero didn't beat around the bush.

"Is rather delicate." Acht sipped his tea. His eyes went over to Septem, who finally sat down, sipping his own tea. "But I'm sure you're very familiar with delicate situations."

"We always work with complete discretion," Heero said, unfazed. "But when certain things can't stand the light of day, no amount of discretion will help."

"Very well said." Septem spoke for the first time and his extremely raspy voice grated on Heero's nerves. He suppressed his annoyance. Inspector Acht didn't pay any attention to him and instead cleared his throat. He put his teacup down and folded his fingers neatly together.

"The Alliance is not entirely a military organisation, Mister Yuy. As you might know, Foreign Vice Minister Darlian specifically designed it as a controlling mechanism to study the atrocities of war and how to prevent armed conflicts in the future."

"I have heard of these studies," Heero said. "I know that Relena Peacecraft is supporting you."

"The Queen of the World is a very wise woman." Inspector Acht smiled, but it wasn't a warm smile. "She values peace and negotiations over violence and brute force. The Alliance occupies itself with preventing conflicts and public awareness of the horrible consequences of war. Several departments of the Alliance are focusing on history, and one in particular on art and culture."

"Art and culture in a military environment?"

"To be exact, art and culture stolen during wartime. This department is taking inventory of looted art during wartime, with the intention to retrieve it and return it to the rightful owners, the survivors."

"I see."

"Not long before the colonies were launched, Mister Yuy, Earth itself had its own history of war. One of those wars is referred to as the Second World War."

"I know my history lessons."

Acht nodded. "In that period, a lot of art and artefacts was stolen, let's not sugar-coat it. As I mentioned, my department focuses on retrieving this stolen art and returning it to the rightful heirs."

"Noble," Heero said. "And where do we come in?"

Septem gazed at Acht. The inspector moved his hand to the right to pick up a suitcase, standing next to his chair. He opened the suitcase and took out a sheet of paper. "We want you to find these paintings." Heero reached to take the paper from him.

"Paintings," Heero repeated as he skimmed the list. _Portrait of a Young Man_ by Raphael. _The Painter on the Road to Tarascon_ by Vincent van Gogh. _Five Dancing Women_ by Edgar Degas. "Wouldn't it be better if The Alliance actually helped out in war-torn countries instead of making a fuzz about paintings?"

"The Alliance was involved in several… incidents when the relations with the colonies were strained. You know your history lessons as you say, so you're aware that The Alliance since then has been stripped of actual military power. We don't send soldiers to whatever hotbed in the world like a bunch of cheap mercenaries, Mister Yuy. We research every aspect of war to make sure that history won't repeat itself. In the meantime, we want to make up for what is lost. The paintings will be a sign of good will when we return them to their rightful owners."

Pretending to study the list, Heero was slightly unnerved that Septem hadn't spoken more than three words. Acht had finished his passionate speech, and looked a little taken aback by his own vehemence. He hid behind his teacup. Septem simply watched and observed. After a few moments of silence, Heero said: "I'll have to take this up with Mister Maxwell. He's the one who has the final word in accepting requests or queries. Thank you for your time, gentlemen. We will be in touch."

"Thank you for taking it into consideration," Acht said as he put on his hat again. He moved to shake Heero's hand. "It will be a big step in the right direction."

Septem mimicked Acht's gesture, and his handshake was firm. Heero all but expected the man to salute, and he was a little disappointed when he actually didn't.

* * *

"Paintings," Duo said as Heero held the list in front of him. "Raphael? Degas? And a Van Gogh to boot?" He narrowed his eyes as he moved his body up, repeating another set of crunches. He supported his healing leg with a pile of fluffy pillows and wasn't bothered at all by his audience: apart from Heero, Hilde Schbeiker and Howard were also present. Hilde had adjusted some of Duo's wardrobe to accommodate him and was working on another article of clothing, while Howard was just there; the elder man dropped by whenever he wanted. "And why didn't you call for me so I could attend this meeting?"

"I didn't know what they wanted. Somehow, The Alliance sets off warning bells with me."

Howard whistled. "Alliance? Who?"

"A certain General Septem and an Inspector Acht," Heero answered.

"Sounds very German-y," Duo said.

"I met a Septem in the war," Howard said, pensively. "If this is the same man, I can't believe he made it all the way up to General." Howard had fought in the war between Earth and the colonies, even before Duo or Heero were born. It wasn't his favourite topic of discussion.

"You don't look too happy, Heero," Hilde said, balancing needle and threads between her lips.

"I don't know why I'm so bothered by them," Heero answered. "Something feels off, I can't put my finger on it."

"You didn't accept their request, did you?" Duo finally sat up straight, having finished his exercise.

"No, I said that I would take it up with you, and that we'd be in touch."

"I think it's a nice request," Hilde said, biting off the thread. She held up the pair of black slacks and admired her work. "It doesn't sound strenuous at all, just investigation and research. A lot of walking around perhaps, but that's good exercise for your leg. For longer distances, you can take the wheelchair. This would finally be a mission without guns, scary criminals or jumping off great heights."

"True. I don't expect a search for missing paintings to be very dangerous," Howard added his two cents. "But I agree with Heero. The Alliance doesn't put in a request like this without an ulterior motive, is my personal opinion."

"We could perform a background check on Septem and Acht." Duo shrugged. "And if The Alliance isn't legit, we don't do it. We're not obligated to help them out."

"I can always ask Relena's opinion," Heero said.

"Invite the Queen of the World for dinner?" Duo smiled. He was quite fond of Relena, who he usually referred to as 'princess'. "Finally, some female elegance in the Maxwell Manor!" He was promptly hit by a pillow by Hilde, right in his face.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is truly delicious," Relena said as she took another bite of the duck confit, her every movement graceful. "You have an excellent cook, Duo."

"Why thank you, mylady," he said. "Theresa really likes to cook up a storm. As if she has to feed an entire army," he added innocently. Heero chose not to comment on that; Duo's appetite was quite legendary, as well as his own. He was glad though, that Duo and Relena got along so well. Relena wasn't responsible for his first break-up with Duo, years ago. Many complicated things had caused them to split ways, but now that they had found each other again, Relena had become a good friend, fully supportive of their relationship. Heero had invited her for dinner to talk about the Alliance, and it was also a nice opportunity to catch up. He had to agree with Duo of course, Theresa had really outdone herself. Maybe she could stay on as a cook, relieving Hillary from that particular task, if or when he returned.

After dinner, coffee was served in the living room in the north wing of the Manor. The living quarters, offices and salons were concentrated in this wing, and Duo only received guests in his personal living room when he truly trusted them. Relena regarded it as an honor and made sure to sit down gracefully and carefully on the antique Chesterfield couch.

"You wanted to talk to me about the Alliance," she said when Theresa had brought the coffee and a large étagère with bonbons and other sugary sweets.

"What's your opinion about them?" Heero asked immediately.

She didn't hesitate. "The Alliance's research and educative programs are extremely valuable. Raising awareness about the atrocities of war is precious. They educate and publish to a large public, children and adults alike, and their contribution to libraries and schools is unmistakable. I'm supporting their programs, and make sure they have funding to reach out to the people."

"So the Alliance is nothing but peace and roses?" Duo arched his eyebrows while he sipped his atrociously sweet coffee with whipped cream.

"Absolutely not," Relena answered, almost coldly. "I was talking about their research and educative programs, not about the people involved." She shivered, despite the cozy, warm temperature in the room. "They… I just don't like them. There's something… fanatic about them. I can't put my finger on it. It's slightly unsettling."

"The same feeling I had." Heero set his mug aside. "What kinds of people join the Alliance?"

"Of all ethnic backgrounds, different nations, clouded pasts… yes, I know that our background checks aren't as thorough as yours, Heero. We lack the sufficient funding, manpower and computer equipment to do so. The people who join, have one thing in common: they have all suffered from war and its atrocities. I value their dedication and experience more than what they did prior to joining."

"That's a risky business, Relena," Heero said. "What if someone with a double agenda is joining, using the Alliance's resources to his own benefit?"

"I doubt that would ever happen. The Alliance's resources are extremely limited, both financial and material," Relena said, sternly. "A lot of people even put their own money towards it. Being a member of the Alliance isn't a full time, well paid job. Most of them are volunteers."

"I have a little trouble imagining General Septem as a volunteer," Heero said.

"Of course you would immediately focus on the exception of the rule." Relena couldn't help herself, she chuckled. Heero refilled her cup of coffee and presented another bonbon. She sighed at the look of the heavenly chocolate goodies, but decided to forsake any kind of diet for tonight and treated herself to another one. "Septem is a different case. He, along with Acht, is one of the few who do get paid. Their work for the Alliance is extremely valuable. They don't make enough to live wealthily, so don't worry."

"What's his background?" Heero asked.

"Septem served in the Balkan during his military career," Relena answered. "When the countries there fell apart, Marshall Noventa ordered an intervention to evacuate the people. He send a bunch of diplomats to see if there was any room for peace treaties."

"Noventa?" Duo exchanged a look with Heero. Very few people knew about the details of the man's death, and Relena wasn't one of them. She wasn't aware of the true facts of Heero and Duo's previous mission either, in which Noventa had asked them to search for the sword of Kol-An-Anuum. He had paid the ultimate price, sacrificing his life, and his death had been presented to the world as succumbing to old age, after a short illness. His granddaughter, Sylvia Noventa, knew what happened, but to everyone else, Marshall Noventa was still the heroic activist for international peace, and neither Sylvia, Duo, Heero nor Chang Wufei, who had also been involved, had seen the need to shatter that reputation. Noventa had made mistakes, but his intentions had been honest and noble.

"It was over twenty years ago," Relena admitted. "Back then, Noventa was in charge of international negotiations, interventions and peace treaties. It was a time of great conflict between nations, and Noventa traveled all over the world to talk to the parties involved, to bring about peace. Believe it or not, but Septem was Noventa's subordinate at that time and reported back to him."

Duo sat on the edge of his seat, his leg completely forgotten. Heero listened attentively as well, coffee going cold.

"During that intervention, Septem took a flight to Bucharest to negotiate a cease-fire in name of Noventa," Relena continued. "His plane was shot down. He fell out of it at great height, but survived notwithstanding. His body was broken, but not his spirit. Ever since then, he devoted himself wholly to the Alliance to make people aware of the atrocities of war."

"Interesting," Heero said. "He looked in pretty good health to me." It earned him a look from Duo, silently reminding him that they had jumped out of a Cessna at great height in Tibet, and they had had the fortune of a parachute, unlike Septem.

Relena didn't notice. "Still a little paranoid, are we? It took years for Septem to recover. During his time in the hospital, between all the surgeries and therapies, he completely dedicated himself to the Alliance. He lives off of his war pension and the monthly fee the Alliance pays him."

"I hardly call it paranoid," Heero said. "Rather 'on my guard'. But thank you for explaining, Relena. What about Acht?"

"Inspektor Acht… I don't know much about him. Both he and Septem were Alliance members before I got involved."

"Involved how?"

"As Queen of the World, and as a strong supporter of worldwide peace, I have to be up to date with the biggest organization in the field of education and public awareness of war and what they are up to," she answered, dryly. "I read their mission statements and reports, I read their letters for new initiatives and I study their financial records to make sure that no one can accuse them of putting money in their own pockets. It hasn't been that long since the Alliance was a world-dominating military organization, so I keep them under great scrutiny. I don't want them to re-build their power in secret."

"But still, you mentioned something unsettling," Duo gently reminded her. Relena sipped her coffee and put the cup aside.

"Like I said, I fully support the Alliance's goals," she said. "If a huge military organization can make the change to advocate for peace instead of violence, that's a huge victory for the entire world. I just feel unsettled by the fanaticism in the ranks. They go about the prevention of war with the same zeal as starting a war, if you know what I mean. I feel terrible just thinking about it, because no member of the Alliance has been on the wrong side of the law, and their goals are totally honorable. But still…"

"I'll perform an extensive check on Septem and Acht," Heero announced. Relena turned her head towards him.

"I can assure you, Heero, that you won't find much on them. Septem's story is fairly well-known, but he was hospitalized in a war-torn Rumania. Any and all record will be lost. And as for Acht… he once was a rookie, enrolled in the military and he failed to climb up in the ranks. He's more of a pencil pusher than an active soldier, and when he's on a mission, he sinks his teeth into it like a pit bull, and never lets it go."

"Hence the list of all the paintings," Duo said. "What's the exact meaning of that?"

"The paintings… a lot of art has been looted in wartime, and Acht's department is especially focused on retrieving those paintings. Imagine, Duo, Heero, what it would mean to the survivors or heirs, to get their rightful belongings back," Relena said. "A huge token of goodwill..."

"…and a great diplomatic success," Duo winked at her. Relena didn't hesitate to return the wink.

"Exactly. Can you imagine all the positive press it would generate? It would strengthen the ties between the countries and show a really positive attitude."

"If the paintings can be uncovered," Duo objected. "It's been so long."

"Come on, you've searched for and found artifacts over thousands and thousands years of age," Relena immediately retorted.

"Yes, but paintings are even more fragile," Duo said. "Pottery and swords stand the test of time better than paint on canvas. What if a painting is dusting away in an attic, literally fading into non-existence?"

"I heard that Eastern Europe is quite nice around this time of the year," Relena said lightly. "I also heard it's a treasure trove of historical buildings and landscapes, and the nature is impressive and very healthy for a young man in the last stage of physiotherapy for his healing leg." Ignoring Duo's stuck-out tongue, she went on: "Why not combine it with a holiday? While you do your research on the paintings, enjoy some time off. No one is pressuring you to find them all - like you said, they could be dusting away in an attic. I think it's a good opportunity to combine business and pleasure."

"A holiday isn't a bad idea," Heero agreed. "Hilde mentioned the same, remember? What do you think, Duo?"

He reclined into his comfortable chair. "I'd like to do some fieldwork, but as I'm still restricted by my leg, research is the only thing I can handle at the moment. I haven't been to Eastern Europe that often. It sounds like a good idea to me!"

"Excellent!" Relena took the opportunity to help herself to another bonbon. "Now, let's discuss other things, or do you have other questions about the Alliance, Heero?"

"I know more than enough, Relena, thank you. What other things would you like to discuss?"

She looked at him with an impish grin. "I just want to know when you two are going to tie the knot!"

"Rele~eeena!"

* * *

Before any definitive arrangements were made, Duo visited his physiotherapist. He also consulted with Professor G., the family physician. He wanted to be cleared for traveling and walking abroad, but both men had their doubts, convinced that despite his great progress, Duo would over-exert himself. However, when it became obvious that Heero was coming along on the trip, they heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that he would make sure Duo wouldn't get himself into trouble. Nonetheless, Professor G. recommended that Duo took his cane with him, to support him when walking longer distances. Duo agreed, albeit reluctantly. His leg simply wasn't strong enough yet to be hiking all day long. He refused to take the wheelchair with him, though.

Howard swung by as soon as he heard of the business/holiday plans. Usually, he and Hilde would take care of logistics, weaponry and clothing when an archaeological mission was involved, but Duo didn't think he needed any special outfits or difficult tactics to deal with his trip to Eastern Europe. The elderly man wasn't all too happy when he searched out Duo.

"So, you've decided to accept this mission?" Howard stated the obvious. Duo hobbled around the bedroom to throw another pair of jeans into his suitcase.

"We talked it over, and we decided to combine it with a holiday. We look around, we research some, and we relax some."

"You're not leaving your Uzis at home, are you?" Howard asked sharply. Duo looked up, slightly puzzled.

"I don't think we need weapons?" Duo hesitated when he saw the terse look on Howard's face. "What's the matter, Howard?"

"I don't trust Septem," Howard said. "An old man's instinct, Duo. I told you I met him during the war, and I saw a fanaticism in his eyes that I haven't forgotten till this day. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't a fanaticism for war – everything he does, he does for 200%, or nothing at all. He throws himself at something and ends up totally blind for his environment. I'm not sure if he has an ulterior motive, though… but I can't imagine a man like Septem being satisfied to fulfill his life with educating people about the atrocities of war."

"Did he commit any? Crimes of war, I mean?"

"Not that I know of." Howard shook his head. "I take it Heero performed a background check on him?"

Duo nodded. "I haven't heard from him yet if he's found something suspicious."

"I'm afraid he won't find any."

Duo snorted. "The system Heero can't hack or infiltrate, has to be invented yet."

"I don't doubt Heero's abilities at all," Howard said with a grin. He had come to regard Heero as his own family, just like he was regarding Duo as his son. "I mean he won't find any, because it simply doesn't exist. Wartime is a bad time for records and archives. It's usually the first thing that ends up getting destroyed."

"To avoid knowledge falling into the wrong hands," Duo said. "Relena said something along those lines. I'm sure lots of records have been destroyed, or 'disappeared'."

"Exactly. Septem's medical records are probably gone. It was a bad war, Duo, with genocide on both sides. I'm not saying that Septem committed these crimes. He was a negotiator, acting on behalf of Noventa."

"Relena told me so," Duo said.

"I forgot that you've got a hotline to the Queen of the World," Howard said dryly. "Anyway… how much chance of survival do you give someone falling out of a plane?"

"Not much," Duo admitted. "But then again, I jumped out of a Cessna, together with Heero, and we survived. Hopefully, he can find something on that accident."

"If there are any records left," Howard repeated. "Duo, I don't think this mission is fishy, I do believe it's the Alliance's genuine goal to retrieve those paintings and be all diplomatic and stuff. But that doesn't mean that everyone adheres to that goal."

"Heero's got my back. Believe me Howard, I don't make the mistake of trusting anyone immediately ever again."

"I know. I just thought that… well, with your leg and all… you should take it easy."

"Finding some lost paintings should be an easy mission," Duo said. "And I mean 'easy', as in 'not getting shot at' or 'not breaking another leg'."

"Have a nice holiday," Howard tapped at his infamous sunglasses, firmly perched on the bridge of his nose. "Who's going to guard the fortress?"

"Well, you of course! The renovations are far from being finished, and I need you to keep an eye on the workers. Besides, Alister and Zip are going to be here," Duo said. "You can keep an eye on them as well, if you want to. I like them, they're really nice guys. Alister will take on duties for the Maxwell Foundation while I'm gone, and I guess Heero will give Zip some clearance to maintain the security systems."

"And Theresa? Is she going to replace Hillary?"

"I don't know how much time Hillary needs to get his affairs in order, and frankly, I want him to take all the time in the world to deal with his father's estate. Until then, Theresa will run the household. She adores cooking for the boys, they're young enough to be her grandsons." Duo folded another shirt into the suitcase.

"All right." Howard seemed to be satisfied, but he didn't leave yet. His voice turned a few pitches darker when he spoke again. "One more thing, Duo. Take a piece with you. Any piece. But make sure you've got one."

Duo remained still for a few seconds. "I'll take the Sig Sauer with me, all right?"

"Good choice."


	3. Chapter 3

True to his word, Duo put his Sig Sauer in a box, clad with a very thin, flexible layer of lead to prevent the X-ray machines at any airport to pick up on the gun locked inside. On the outside, it was a simple box for carrying stationary, but only Duo and Heero were aware of its double layer. For this trip, he was leaving his Uzis behind at the Manor. Duo didn't expect anything extraordinary to happen, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He figured Heero would take some knives with him as a safety precaution. Heero's preferred weapon of choice, the Remington shotgun, was way too big and too obvious to carry around. Duo finished packing and let out a huge yawn as soon as he threw in his last shirt.

"Time for bed," Heero announced from his position in the door opening.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to observe you 'packing'," Heero said dryly. "Nothing but shirts. What about some pants? Or underwear?"

"I don't need underwear," Duo snickered, "especially not when you're around."

"Sure, make _me_ look like the sex-crazed perv," Heero snorted, but he didn't protest. He ventured into the room to stand close to Duo.

"Maybe you're right, I should add some pants," Duo said, but flipped the lid of the suitcase close. "Tomorrow. It's time for bed, indeed."

"How is the leg?"

"Stronger every day. See? I'm standing on it without using a crutch or a cane, or the wheelchair."

"Has Prof. G. given you permission to leave?"

Duo pouted slightly. "Well, sort of… as long as I don't overexert myself. As in, hiking twenty miles every day..."

"I'll be sure to keep an eye on you."

"I know you will. How was your day?"

"I continued my research on Septem and Acht, but so far I can't find anything. If there's any dirt on them, it's either covered up or it simply doesn't exist."

The slight irritation in Heero's voice didn't surprise Duo. He knew that Heero could hack any database, any record, and if there was but one sliver of information, Heero would find it. Duo reiterated Howards words, about records getting lost in wartime.

"He's got a point there," Heero said. "Relena mentioned the same, remember?" He turned towards Duo, slipping his arms around his waist. "I would go after records and archives myself in case of a war. That's extremely valuable information. I don't like it. Septem's records might be destroyed, but Acht? He just pops up out of nowhere."

"You sound irritated," Duo said as he brushed a few wayward strands out of Heero's face. "Does this have to do with your father?"

"My adoptive father," Heero corrected him, without sounding curt. "If there was anyone who knew to stay off the grid, it was him. He was a ghost." Odin Lowe had been a hitman for hire, and he had served as a mercenary in his younger years. He taught his adopted son everything about weapons, survival skills and electronics, but there was no room for warmth or real, genuine care. Lowe wasn't one of Heero's favorite topics. "Everyone leaves a trail. A paper trail, an electronic trail. I don't believe that someone can just pop up and become an Inspector for the Alliance."

"Didn't Relena mention he was in the military first, before he became a pencil pusher?"

"Well, that's it - I can't find any military records of him. No private Acht. No documents of his enlistment. Nothing. And I don't think Acht is as smart as my adoptive father. He doesn't know all the ins and outs to be invisible."

"You mean, he probably paid someone to erase his tracks," Duo suggested.

"Precisely."

"I'm sorry I brought your fath… adoptive father up. I didn't mean to ruin the mood."

"You didn't ruin anything." Heero kissed him on the cheek. "The man taught me a lot, but guerrilla tactics isn't something you should learn when you're young. I thought it was the most normal thing in the world to know how to strip an M-16 blindfolded."

Duo cupped Heero's face, caressing his skin. "I'm so sorry, love."

"It's all right. How about getting some sleep? We still have a lot to do tomorrow before we can leave for Eastern Europe."

"Sure." Duo smiled at him. "Why don't you start undressing first?"

* * *

The next morning held a small surprise for Duo and Heero. A private courier brought them an envelope containing Alliance passes, specially issued and identifying them as temporary employees. According to the accompanying letter, written and signed by Acht, the passes didn't hold any legal power or jurisdiction, but they might come in handy during the mission. The rest of the day was spend giving out instructions to Alister and Zip on how to handle the daily grind of Maxwell Manor, and to Howard in regard to the ongoing renovation.

After everything was taken care of, they took the limousine to Gatwick airport for their trip to Bucharest, Romania. The private yet, the Cessna, had been demolished during their trip to Tibet, and as neither the Alliance nor the Maxwell Foundation had the funds to pay for a first class flight, Duo and Heero had to take the economy class. Duo had refused to book a handicapped spot even though he had his cane with him, and Heero let him be.

It was a standard, less than three hour flight to Baneasa airport, Bucharest. No stops or transfers, much to Heero's delight; he didn't like being cooped up for longer than was necessary. Duo had chosen Romania as the first country to start their search for the paintings. King Carol II had adopted a position of neutrality during World War II, but fascist and military factions staged a coup in the summer of 1940 and joined the Axis Powers at the end of the same year. It would take until 1943 and another coup before Romania put itself on the Allied side; but by then, the country had suffered at least 370.000 losses of human lives and after the war ended, their late association with the winning side caused them to lose large territories to Bulgaria and the Soviet Union, dismantling Greater Romania. After their flight had landed, they took a train to Çleçiani, Brasov county, a few hours away from the capital.

* * *

The next morning, Duo inhaled the fresh mountain air, his chest heaving. He had a nice view on the Fagaras Mountains, with the Vistea Mare as one of its tallest peaks. The sun felt warm and comfortable on his bare arms and he leaned against the railing of the balcony, ignoring his cane.

"Ah, that's the stuff," he said with a big grin. Heero came to stand next to him, clad in the bathrobe issued by the hotel. After traveling the whole day, they had done nothing much but to eat and go to bed early, replenishing their energy.

"It's very nice weather," Heero commented. "Do you want to start with the list immediately? Or do you want to look around and get a holiday feeling first?"

"Holiday, definitely," Duo said. "How about breakfast, though? It'd be nice to get something decent to eat after that airplane crap."

"All right, let's go downstairs." Heero went back into the hotel room, searching in his suitcase for something decent to wear. He chose a forest green shirt and black slacks, with a pair of sneakers. Duo dressed the same, only the color of his shirt was dark red. Prof. G. had removed Duo's cast prior to traveling; he made sure not to put too much weight or strain on his leg and struggled slightly with his pair of jeans before he succeeded into putting them on.

At the breakfast table, Duo all but flopped onto the chair and allowed Heero to pour the orange juice. The hotel was fairly modern, yet modest; Çleçiani wasn't exactly a tourist attraction. Heero brought over a tray with two plates filled with breakfast items from the buffet and put it on the solid oak table. The entire hotel was decorated with rustic oak furniture, making it adorably quaint. The Jankoviç family ran the hotel for generations, with the mother of the house cooking breakfast herself, and her sons and daughter helping out with serving, cleaning, and entertaining the guests.

Just as Heero sat down, the daughter, Mila, came to stand at their table. "Newspaper?"

"Yes, please," he said. She handed him one; it was an International New York Times, two days old. Heero had brought his laptop along, but as this was their holiday, he had promised Duo not to use it too much. After all, even Heero was in need of a break every now and then.

Mila asked if everything was what they wished for. "You are staying here for holiday?" she asked, with a fairly heavy accent. Duo nodded.

"We're looking for some health and fresh air," he said.

"We have a spa," Mila said enthusiastically. "Great for health improvement! It's not far from here. Natural baths, herbs, and good quality of air."

"Excellent. Does Çleçiani have a library?"

"A small one," she answered. "Very small one. Some archives, but no newspapers. I bring newspaper to you, if you like? We don't have a tourist information agency…"

"I'm sure I can rely on you for information," Duo said heartily. "Say, do you have any whipped cream for my coffee?"

"Flirting with the staff, eh?" Heero said as soon as Mila left. He noticed that Duo had already cleared his plate, which pleased him. Duo with a firm appetite was a healthy, good-natured Duo.

"You know the drill: locals know much more and are more willing to talk if you heap up the charm."

"As long as you reserve most of that charm for me."

"You know that you're the only one deserving of my charm," Duo teased. He went silent for a moment as Mila returned with the whipped cream and a piece of paper, on which she had written the directions to the spa and the library. Çleçiani wasn't that big of a town, everything was at walking distance. Duo thanked the girl and they finished breakfast in comfortable silence, while sharing the newspaper to read.

* * *

"Whoa, I'm stuffed." Duo said as he climbed down the stairs. Heero followed him, wearing a loose jacket. Despite the warmth of the sun, the temperature wasn't that high; when walking in the shade, it felt actually quite cold. Heero put up the collar of his jacket.

"The library?"

"Just around the corner." Duo checked the directions on the piece of paper. The streets, paved with cobblestones, made it harder to walk for Duo than just plain tiles or asphalt. He concentrated on placing his feet right, as to avoid spraining his weaker ankle. Heero was tempted to take him by the arm, but he knew Duo wouldn't appreciate the gesture. He had to remind himself that Duo could take good care of himself. "Here we are!"

They faced the town's library: a simple building, not larger than an average house. "I don't think we'll find much there," Duo said, slightly disappointed.

"There's nothing as annoying as finding a dead end," Heero said, "but even dead ends can bring new beginnings."

"Since when did you become a poet? Come on, let's go in."

Duo put his hand on the door handle, and grinned at the eerie, creepy noise when it creaked open. A little bit of dust flittered out from the opening and it was dark inside. Duo coughed a few times as he stepped inside, but there was no answer. The hallway was small and lead to the living room, stuffed to the ceiling with book cabinets. Heero looked around, identifying a bookcase with old maps. He turned towards it, when he caught sight of the elderly man.

"Can I help you?" The man had the same heavy accent as Mila.

"I'm glad you speak English," Duo blurted out.

"I can clearly see you're not from around here," the man said. "Tourists?"

"Tourists with a fondness for history," Duo said. "I'm an archaeologist." Heero didn't introduce himself and the man didn't ask. Duo hated lying, even though he sometimes took a run with the truth himself; he rather kept things 'neutral', and if people didn't ask, he didn't answer anyway.

"I'm afraid we don't have much to offer in the field of archaeology," the man said. "Are you going to dig for something? Like an excavation? That has already happened in the graveyard."

"Excuse me?"

"About five years ago." The man walked over to the same bookcase Heero had been examining, and took out a roll of paper. He spread it out on the large table in the middle of the room, revealing a hand drawn map of the city. "It was a huge project, set up by the Alliance," he said and pointed to the east on the map, where a graveyard was clearly marked. "To identify unknown, fallen soldiers from World War II. I think they managed to identify over 75% of those soldiers."

"So, that's good work from the Alliance," Duo encouraged him to keep talking.

"For the next-of-kin, yes, it was good work. And our little town earned extra money because the press was here, and all those Alliance workers were here, and they had to stay and eat somewhere, didn't they? I never really understood why they went through all that trouble, though."

"Public relations and goodwill," Duo said. "Besides, it's a great gesture to the next-of-kin and descendants of those who have fallen."

"You can see for yourself," the man said brusquely. "I have tapes from the documentary they made. Quite interesting. The VHS is in the next room." He rolled up the city map again.

"Thank you." Duo turned to Heero who retrieved the tape from the top shelf of another cabinet. The elderly man remained standing for a moment, then muttered something in his native language and left. Heero blew carefully the dust on the tape away.

"It doesn't hurt to watch," he said.

"No DVD, huh," Duo said. "Hopefully the tape hasn't corroded."

"Only one way to find out."

The VCR was dusty as well, but after a little fidgeting, Heero got the equipment to work. The TV gave a picture of good quality, and Heero and Duo sat down on the small couch in the 'media room', according to the small sign on top of the door. Snuggling up to Heero, Duo watched the documentary with rapt fascination. It showed General Septem, obviously in charge of this Alliance goodwill mission. He was interviewed by a man off-camera, and spoke pompously.

"We want to give war a human face," he said, "to show that there are innocents involved! Not all of these victims were trained soldiers, they were mothers, fathers, children! All killed in the name of one fanatic, and laid to rest in unmarked, shallow graves!"

"Relena is right," Duo muttered. "Look at his eyes. He's totally fanatic himself! He's taken it upon himself to identify every victim, up until the very last one."

"It's not healthy," Heero agreed. He tilted his head. "This was five years ago?"

"Yeah, look at the right corner. The time stamp."

"And how long ago was Septem's plane accident?"

"Twenty years, remember? Why do you ask, Heero?"

"I don't know. There's something not right about him."

"He didn't do anything wrong. I mean… Howard knew the man back in his days, and Septem has no war crimes to his name. I believe Howard."

"I have no reason to doubt Howard," Heero said. "I doubt Septem. He survived that accident and there's no record of it. It's bugging me, and I don't know why. And it bugs me that I don't know why it bugs me."

"You know, the city where Septem was hospitalized isn't that far away from here. Maybe we can snoop around there, if you like?" Duo lowered his voice to a husky, throaty tone. "I know you want to…"

"This holiday is getting to your head," Heero grumbled. He knew he had already lost, though. Duo could read him like a book. "Of course I want to."


	4. Chapter 4

The only pair of wheels they managed to find was an old Jeep, exactly to Duo's liking. He negotiated the price (cash only. Fortunately, he had US dollars with him) and bought it on the spot. Heero knew better than to interfere, but he wasn't happy to learn that the seatbelts were fairly worn out.

The road to Brsiç was well-paved and Heero started to enjoy the ride. This area was remote and sparsely populated, the road leading them past farm houses and very small villages where the local population, clad in colorful _fotã_ and _suman,_ waved at them. A few kids ran along with the Jeep, as Duo had to slow significantly down when driving through the villages; the main road became a cobblestone path, but wasn't hard for the Jeep to navigate. Outside the villages, the road was paved again and they picked up speed towards Brsiç. Basking in the good weather, Heero had pulled the window down, taking in the wide, green landscape. He checked his GPS; the Bulgarian border wasn't that far. Duo hummed a non-descript tune and drove into the town of Brsiç. Following the signs, they ended up in a parking lot close to the central plaza, with a huge, stone fountain. Duo parked the Jeep next to a few other cars, their license plates showing foreign markings, from Austria to Turkey and Russia.

"We're here," Duo announced superfluously. "Do you want to get something to eat first?"

It was a rhetorical question; Heero just smiled. Duo's appetite was well-known to him. He pointed to a small restaurant across the plaza. "Over there?"

"Looking good," Duo agreed and hopped out of the Jeep. A few tourists were strolling through the plaza, admiring the massive fountain. In passing, Heero noticed that the fountain wasn't made of stone, but cast in bronze. The sculptures, three naked women with huge jars where the water flowed from, were quite intricate and striking in the modest, old-fashioned plaza. Duo didn't pay attention to the fountain, he went straight to the restaurant. A large bell chimed when he opened the door.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the bartender greeted them, putting away a few glasses. "Have a seat! My son will come to tend to you soon!"

Duo chose a seat next to the large, dark wooden bar with huge copper handles, to tap beer with. Heero gallantly pulled the chair back, so Duo could sit down.

"Well thank you, husband dear," Duo said and batted his eyes at him dramatically.

"I'm not your husband yet, officially," Heero answered dryly and sat down. "We should discuss this sooner or later…"

"I want to be proposed," Duo said. "With an engagement ring on the bottom of a glass of champagne! And a slice of triple chocolate cake with whipped cream on top. You should know that by now!"

"Yes, but as with certain other things, I can't tell if you're completely serious or just joking…"

"What, are you telling me you don't know me that well?"

"Duo…"

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the young man popping up at their table said joyfully. "My name is Stjepan Djurdjevic. I'm the son of the owner. Can I help you?"

"We'd like to order lunch," Duo said, after sneaking a wink at Heero. "What can you recommend?"

"My mother has prepared soup of the day, _ciorbã_ ," Stjepan said. Duo wasn't very fond of the sour soup, but it was a common starter for lunch. "We also have eggplant salad, and for the second course, grilled mushrooms with potatoes and polenta."

"We'll take the eggplant salad," Heero said. "And the mushrooms. It sounds great."

"I'll be back soon," Stjepan said and hurried back to the kitchen. Duo made a face.

"Eggplant salad?"

"You should eat more vegetables," Heero said matter-of-factly. "It's good for your health and your recovery." It hadn't escaped his attention that Duo had chosen this seat so he could stretch his leg easily. Duo made another face, then shrugged and accepted his fate of eating more greens. The topic of marriage had been interrupted by Stjepan, but neither Duo nor Heero brought it back up again. Instead, Duo played with his cell phone and tried to access the Internet.

"Wi-fi isn't a priority here," he muttered. "What am I supposed to do without my beloved Internet?"

"Says the one who forbade me from using my laptop." Heero was a little surprised, though. He had seen the tourists in Brsiç; surely Wi-Fi hotspots would be available around here? "Perhaps only in Bucharest," he added. "This is a more remote area. What are you looking for?"

"A local map," Duo said. "I want to know how to drive to the hospital."

"You need a hospital, sir?" Stjepan had arrived at their table with the salad and looked Duo over. "You're in pain?"

"Oh no, just in case. I'm recovering," Duo said, light-heartedly. "Is there a hospital around?"

Stjepan frowned. "I'm sorry, sir. We used to have a hospital. You better go see County Clinical Hospital in Brasov."

"Really? I was informed that Brsiç had its own hospital," Duo said.

"I'll ask my father," Stjepan said. "He has lived here all his life. I'll be right back."

While the young man was gone, Duo tasted the salad, spearing a piece of eggplant with his fork. "Not bad!" He eyed the small bowl with a white, thick concoction. "What's that?"

Heero dipped his spoon in it to taste it. "Sour cream," he said. "I should've known. Give it a try!" He chuckled at Duo's face, which automatically went disapproving of anything looking, sounding or tasting sour. They finished the salad and talked about food in general until Stjepan returned, carrying the second course of their lunch. He put the plates on the table, slightly trembling.

"My father doesn't know about the hospital, but grandpa does," he said. He looked a little anxious, his eyes darting back and forth. "He was wondering why you were told it still existed, though. It was destroyed in the war."

 _Along with all the records._ Duo and Heero exchanged a look. Well, it was too much to hope for. Besides, digging into Septem's past wasn't part of the Alliance mission.

"I'm sorry for any inconvenience," Duo said. "I have been misinformed, then. It wasn't my intention to cause trouble."

"No problem, sir." Stjepan's voice was strained and he turned around quickly, leaving Duo and Heero alone.

"Well, that was awkward," Duo said. Heero pulled his plate towards him and calmly picked up his utensils to continue eating.

"Some events in history leave scars for decades, even centuries to come," he said. "We should be more careful than I thought."

"You're right. And we didn't even ask about any paintings yet! Let's finish lunch and get out of here."

Duo took care of the bill and tipped Stjepan a few extra _Leu_. He accepted the money, but refused to look at Duo and turned away from him, all but fleeing into the kitchen. Taken aback, Duo followed Heero outside and shivered a little as the bartender, who had greeted them so enthusiastically before, now stared at them with an unfriendly, piercing glare. It wasn't a pretty feeling.

"We can call the County Clinical hospital in Brasov to ask about their records," Duo suggested as he put on his sunglasses. "If the archives have been transferred…"

"I doubt it," Heero said. "Besides, I just realize that they're not going to give out medical information unless we're next of kin."

"If the records are digital, you can hack the hospital's database..?"

"We might as well stop the investigation," Heero said, albeit reluctantly. "The hospital was destroyed during the war, and it's doubtful that the records were transferred to somewhere else, let alone put into a computer system. We're here for the paintings."

"True that. Septem isn't our business anyway." Duo put his hand on Heero's shoulder and gave him a light squeeze. Heero appreciated the support and nodded at him.

"You want to look around?"

"Sure. Let's go."

The local history museum was closed for lunch and would open in another hour. Duo and Heero took a walk around the town, not bothered by the curious looks they were given, especially Duo's foot-long braid. Heero snapped a few pictures here and there, and Duo went into a large church, just out of curiosity. He lit up a candle but didn't pray; they admired the statues and rich paintings of biblical events before exiting the church again. Heero looked at his watch; the museum should be open by now.

Unlike in Çleçiani, this museum had its own building, with two floors. It was still small compared to regular museums, but it held an informative exhibition, showcasing the events during World War II up to the Revolution that marked the end of the Ceauşescu era. Duo studied the pictures, as always fascinated by history, and his attention was pulled to a drawn to a particular picture, one of a war cemetery.

"Did you see any signs in town about a war cemetery?" Duo asked, keeping his voice low. Heero came to stand next to him, shaking his head.

"No, I haven't seen any. Maybe they don't want tourists to visit it? I have the feeling it's still a touchy subject, judging from Stjepan's reaction."

"No, the cemetery isn't here at all." A female voice rang out. The girl smiled shyly when Duo and Heero looked at her, not having heard her approach. She was dressed in traditional Romanian garb, with a _fotã_ as they had seen the women wear in the countryside, combined with a _maramã_ , the decorated white head covering, loosely framing her face, only showing a little of her dark, curly hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. Tourists? American?"

"Half-American, half-British," Duo pointed at himself. "Half-Japanese, half-unidentified," he pointed at Heero, whose scowl made the girl blush in slight embarrassment. "We're very much interested in history."

"My name is Branka Silivaş," she said. "You can ask me anything about local history."

"You're a student?" Heero asked.

"Personal interest," she answered. "I earn a little money working here. I also give guided tours in summer, when it's busy."

"Neat." Duo tilted his head. "What about that war cemetery?"

"It's a delicate subject around here." Branka scrunched up her nose. "People won't talk about it, as they think it brings bad luck. Well, I'm not afraid."

Heero didn't take her for a damsel in distress. "What can you tell us about it?"

"I heard you mention Stjepan," Branka said. "It's a small town, so I know it's Stjepan Djurdjevic." She took a deep breath. "You better stay away from him and his family. They don't have the best reputation in town. It's hard to avoid them as they meddle with everything and have great influence. Stjepan's father, Marku Djurdjevic, ran for mayor not long ago, but he lost to Lubjan Silivaş."

"Ah," Duo said, not entirely sure what to do with this bit of information.

"My father," she clarified.

"Oops," Heero said.

"About the war cemetery," Branka continued, rather abruptly. "It was to commemorate those who have fought and fallen for our nation's independence. The Alliance was here, five years ago, to identify the soldiers and civilians. Djurdjevic was one of the most prominent to protest."

"Why would someone protest against the identification of soldiers?"

"He wanted the Alliance to remove the cemetery, not to give the soldiers a name or a face," Branka answered. "He accused every one of the buried people, soldier or civilian, of being a collaborator. He didn't want any attention drawn to it, let alone all the press and international coverage of the Alliance's work. He didn't want people to know that Brsiç had a lot of WWII veterans."

"I don't get it. That's just awful," Duo said. "Maybe he lost a lot of family members in the war?"

"Not that I know of," Branka said. "It's very complicated. The Djurdjevics take great pride in the number of resistance members in their family, but there are no records or any other kind of proof about it… Some say they took the wrong side in the war, others worship them like national heroes."

"And what do you think?" Duo asked, curious to learn the girl's opinion.

"I'm not sure," she admitted honestly. "But since you asked me, I do believe that the entire family is opportunistic, and it wouldn't surprise me if they have chosen a wrong side, in any war or conflict…" Branka started to pluck at her _fotã_. "It doesn't help that Stjepan has this major crush on me. It's very awkward."

"I can imagine. Do you mind if we look around?" Duo asked.

"Not at all."

"Oh, before I forget - do you know if Brsiç ever had a hospital?"

"Yes, but it was destroyed before I was born. In WWII, of course."

"Thank you. You've really been a great help, Branka."

"My pleasure. If you have any more questions…"

"We know where to find you." Duo smiled brightly at her. "Does your museum have a tip jar of some kind?"

"We welcome all kinds of donations," the girl answered. "Next to the exit, there's a box where you can leave something, if you want to."

"I'll make sure not to forget it."

Duo and Heero spend the rest of the afternoon at the museum. Apart from the exhibition, the museum offered a veritable treasure trove of documents pertaining to WWII. Duo submerged himself completely in the documents, eliciting an enthusiastic 'Hm-mm" or an "Aah" every now and then. Heero studied maps and read chapters from several books, detailing the events of the war in this area. No one of the family Djurdjevic was mentioned. Engrossed, they forgot all about time until Branka re-entered the room.

"I've never had visitors staying until closing time," she laughed. "Sorry about that," she apologized when she saw a string of dust cling to Duo's braid. "I should really clean around here."

"That's quite all right. Do you have a recommendation for a good restaurant? I'm quite hungry!"

Branka gave them the address of a restaurant run by people she knew, before Duo and Heero said goodbye. As promised, Duo paid the donation box a visit, stuffing a wad of _Leu_ in the small slot.

"We have a lot to talk about," Heero said. "This was really interesting. Still, no clue about any of the paintings."

"M-hm."

"Something wrong?"

"Nah." Duo stared at the ground. "I was just thinking about that war cemetery. There's something not right about that. Something doesn't add up."

"You mean, about the Djurdjevic family?"

"No, not exactly… I don't know. It's just a hunch. I don't think it's important. At least, not in the scope of our mission. We should focus on the paintings, not on war cemeteries. But first, I want to have some dinner and then we go back to our hotel, okay? I want a soak in a hot bath."

"Very well." Heero couldn't agree more. While Duo would be soaking in the bath, he could arrange his thoughts by writing them down with the help of his word processing software. With such an overload of information like today, he preferred to write an overview to keep everything in order. After that, he could simply join Duo in the bath… now that was something to look forward to.

An hour later, filled up by a hearty meal and in a good mood, they walked back to the Jeep. Duo put his hand in his pants pocket to search for the car keys as soon as they passed the impressive fountain. He yawned. "That was some really good food," he said. "I'm almost passing out."

"Do you want me to drive back?"

"I'm fine," Duo said, teasingly. "Nothing like a nice-"

"Duo," Heero interrupted him.

"What?" He followed the direction Heero was looking into: the Jeep in the parking lot. "Aw bloody hell no!"

All four tires were slashed.


	5. Chapter 5

"Fuckers! Assholes!" Duo walked around the Jeep, staring at the slashed tires. He kicked at one. "Idiots! Morons!" Grumbling, he was about to repeat his walk once more, when Heero stopped him.

"Duo, using strong language doesn't make the tires any less flat. Calm down."

"Fucking idiots!" Duo couldn't resist getting in a last swearword. He frowned. "I can't believe it. If they want to scare us into leaving, why slash the tires of the vehicle?"

"It's our Jeep only," Heero informed him. The big Audi to the right and the two cars with Russian license plates had no damage at all.

"How conspicuous," Duo said with a sour look on his face. He sighed dramatically. "Oh no! Who could have possibly done this? The fiends!"

"That's enough, Duo." Heero drummed with his fingers on the roof of the Jeep. "It's getting late and something tells me there aren't any taxi services between Brsiç and Çleçiani at this time of hour... and it's too far too walk."

"What do we do now?" Duo asked. "Go back to the girl at the museum… Branka? Maybe she knows where we can get another mode of transportation?"

"I'm not sure, but I think we passed a service garage just before we entered town. Do you have cash on you or did you spend it all on the Jeep?"

"No, I still have dollars, Euros and some local currency.. what's it called, the _Leu_."

"Good." Heero turned around. "I think we're going to need it."

They walked back to the entrance of the town. It was further than Heero had estimated and soon enough, he noticed that Duo was slowing down. He adjusted his pace as to not make it painfully obvious that his speed was exhausting to Duo. When they reached the garage, the windows and door were locked.

" _Servicii complete_ ," Heero read the sign on the wooden door out loud. " _Închis_."

"That means they're closed."

"Let's give it a try." Heero knocked firmly. The house adjacent to the garage looked inhabited, hopefully the owner of the garage lived there. He knocked again, louder. It didn't take long for one of the windows to open; a middle-aged man wearing a woolen cap peeked outside, irritated.

" _Ce vrei?Ne sunt închise!_ "

"English, please?" Heero said. "I'm sorry to bother you sir, but we need help. Our Jeep…" Before he could finish his sentence, the man closed the window again.

"Well, I guess he wants to help us verrrry much," Duo said dryly. "Maybe we should show him some money? Perhaps that would be more interesting…"

"Wait," Heero said. He could hear noises; a brawl of voices and footsteps. Someone was coming and he stepped aside as the door swung open. The same middle-aged man stepped outside and stared at the both of them. He was followed by a younger version of himself; it had to be his son.

"Sorry, my father doesn't speak English," he said. "I'm Alexandru! What can I do for you?"

"We need your help, Alexandru," Heero answered. "The tires of our vehicle have been slashed. We need new ones."

"All of them? _Four_ tires?" Alexandru asked incredulously.

"Unfortunately, yes. They don't have to be a specific brand… just whatever you have. We can pay you in dollars."

"Dollars, yes," the man spoke up. Alexandru chuckled and patted his father on the shoulder.

"That's about the only English he understands," he said. "Don't worry, mister. Let me get my brothers and we'll get the truck out, and help you."

"Thank you so much," Heero said.

"It's like the whole goddamn cavalry," Duo mumbled. Heero was about to say something but he understood why Duo's mood had soured so much. He hated being in physical pain, and he hated not being able to take care of the problem himself. But in his condition, he wasn't fit to change a Jeep tire, let alone four of them - and Duo hated standing on the sideline. Heero didn't care if the elderly man was looking or not, he put his hand on Duo's cheek, cupping his face.

"We'll be back at our hotel soon," he said. "Just hold on."

"I'm not a baby," Duo pouted, but he didn't shake Heero's hand off. He gruffly stared into another direction until Alexandru returned with his brothers, Dragos and Ferenç. They hauled a truck out of the garage, the vehicle looked as old as if it had seen WWI itself.

"I can't believe it's still working," Duo said, flabbergasted. "It has to be a zombie truck!"

Alexandru didn't mind the comment. "It's old, yes! But it works! You get in, we'll take you to Jeep!"

Both Duo and Heero got inside the truck, if only to escape the heavy, thick exhaust fumes. The brothers also climbed in and with Alexandru at the wheel, they drove back to the large square with the bronze fountain.

"It's sure is quiet at night," Duo said.

"No tourist town," Alexandru commented. "Not many people come here."

"And when they do, their car gets mangled?"

Not understanding the word 'mangled', Alexandru answered: "Mayor Silivaç tries to get tourists here, but we don't have a spa like Çleçiani, or an university like Braşov. Most people come here for quiet and silence, nature."

"Nature is a good tourist attraction," Heero said. He raised his eyebrow when Alexandru shook his head. "It's not?"

"Hunters," he growled. "They kill our nature. Tourists aren't always good. Not many people here like tourists, but they bring money. We need it. The fountain needs a reservation."

"I think he means 'restoration'," Duo said, after giving it a good thought. "You speak English, Alexandru. Why don't you move to the big city, instead of helping out your father?"

"I went to university in Braşov, for a year. Engineering. But my parents couldn't afford it. We have food, a home and a business, but that's just about it."

"And the other candidate for mayor, Djurdjevic?" Heero asked. "What's his stance on tourism?"

"No tourism." Alexandru parked the truck next to the Jeep. Dragos and Ferenç got out and started unloading the tires.

"No tourism at all?"

Alexandru looked a little uncomfortable. "No. Just for us. You know, the people who live here." He jumped out of the truck and grabbed a large toolbox from the back of the truck. Duo gave Heero a puzzled look.

"You go sit in the Jeep," Heero said. "I'll help the guys out. The sooner we're done, the sooner we can leave."

"But," Duo protested.

"Your leg," was all that Heero said. He heaved a sigh of relief when Duo went to sit in the Jeep, settling into the passenger's seat. Together with the three brothers, Heero changed the wheels, not disturbed by the young men talking to each other in their native language, snickering every now and then. He paid them in dollars, adding some of the national currency as well. Alexandru thanked him profusely; they said their goodbyes and Heero went into the Jeep, taking the driver's seat.

"Finished?" Duo asked.

"Yes, we're done. Let's go back to our hotel." He turned the car keys and the engine choked and coughed. "Oh no!"

"Try again," Duo encouraged him. After a few more tries, the engine came to roared and Heero put the Jeep into reverse.

"Thank God," he muttered as he exited the parking lot. "For a moment, I thought they killed the engine as well!"

* * *

Back in Çleçiani, Heero shooed Duo into the shower first. After checking the entire hotel room, he joined Duo. He didn't mind the small shower stall at all, enjoying Duo's close proximity. It worried him though, that Duo was all but leaning on him, using him as a support.

"Are you all right?"

"I think I overexerted my leg after all," he muttered. "I can barely stand up."

"Hold on." Heero moved him under the water spray to rinse off the last of the shampoo and soap, then turned the showerhead off and hauled Duo out of the stall. He wrapped a towel around him.

"I'm not a baby," Duo protested again, half-heartedly. That told Heero more than enough and he focused his attention on Duo, ignoring Duo's hand conveniently sliding over his naked lower backside. He made Duo sit down on the bed and handed him more towels, before wrapping one around his own hips.

"Something's bothering me," Duo said.

"Yes, me as well. Apparently you can't walk for too long without your cane-"

"No, not that." Duo looked up at Heero and grimaced. "Well, I know I should use the cane, but… I was talking about something else. Those war cemeteries, Heero. Something's wrong."

"We're not here for war cemeteries, but for paintings," Heero reminded him. "You're seeing ghosts, Duo, excuse the lame pun. We're not here for Septem's shady past, but for the paintings. So far, we haven't found a single lead."

"True, true…"

"You better rest up, all right?"

"Do you think they really wanted to scare us?"

"What do you mean? The tires?"

"Yeah. It wasn't a coincidence."

"No, I guess not. But I doubt it was about scaring - more like a warning."

"'Look out, you're digging too close to the secrets kept in Brsiç?'"

"Something like that." Heero flicked Duo's nose. "Now cut the sarcasm, dear. We should take this serious."

"I am. Don't forget to write it down. The Alliance will have to reimburse the tires."

"They rely on donations for their educational programs, Duo. What makes you think that they can possibly reimburse our expenses…"

"Just kidding, just kidding." Duo made a waving gesture with his hand.

"Why don't you lie down instead of joking around?" Heero brushed the towel along his body, drying himself off.

"Fine." Duo snorted. He threw the wet towels on the floor and left his slightly damp hair loose, not bothering to braid it. He grabbed his smartphone from the nightstand and checked for messages. "Hilde asks if we're having fun," he grinned and he composed a message back.

"So much for fun, with four slashed tires." Heero joined Duo on the bed. He felt fatigued as well. He plucked the smartphone out of Duo's hands as soon as he had finished.

"Hey..!"

"No more exertion for you, mister."

"Heero, typing on a smartphone is hardly exertion… or do you want me to save energy for something else..?"

"You know me well. But you really need your rest, and I need to protect you from yourself. I wouldn't do anything that inconveniences you."

Duo kissed him on the lips. "I love your choice of words. You're such a gentleman."

"Your leg is still bothering you?"

"It's a dull, annoying kind of pain. It's all right, Heero."

"We could go to the spa tomorrow and relax. After all, this is our holiday also."

"You're right." Duo nuzzled Heero's neck, wrapping his arms around his torso. "I'd love a visit to a thermal bath."

"We agree, then."

"Very much so..." Enjoying the attention, Duo made sure to return the loving gestures. Kissing, touching, stroking… his hands went through Heero's hair, his fingers traipsing over his back, tracing his skin. No more talking, just pure attention and love, exploring each other passionately, holding, caressing and cradling… They lost track of time, completely absorbed with each other, sharing another heated kiss before falling asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, protective, possessive, wrapped in all-encompassing love.

* * *

At the breakfast table, Mila was all but happy to give them directions to the local spa. "It's a natural, mineral spring," she explained. "Good for body and mind!"

"Sounds like a plan." Duo smiled at her, as she had given him another International New York Times, only one day old. "We should check the Jeep first," he winked at Heero. The quip flew over Mila's head, obviously, but she beamed at him nonetheless.

"No Jeep! Walking distance!"

Heero looked at Duo, asking him silently if he was up for another walk. He nodded in approval when Duo said that he was going to take his cane with him.

"You have walking problems?" Mila tilted her head. "Warm water is good for limbs!"

"Thank you, Mila," Duo said. The girl tugged at her _fotã_ and dawdled a little. "Is there something you'd like to ask?"

"You American?"

He was taken aback by the question. "Why do you ask?"

Mila took the pot of coffee on the table and leaned forward to grab Duo's mug, even though he hadn't asked for a refill. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Not many are fond of Americans here," she said. "Be careful." The coffee sloshed into the mug, and she quickly put everything back on the table, before turning around and returning to the buffet where she started to rearrange the items, movements a little clumsy.

"What was that all about?" Duo asked when they wandered outside. Heero rubbed his chin. He too had been wondering about Mila's sudden… change. He had figured the girl for fairly happy-go-lucky, but there had been a sad, downcast tone to her voice that didn't match her character at all. What was bothering her?

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that there are many WWII sentiments lingering in this part of the country," Heero said. "Conflicting ones, confusing ones. The younger generation wants to move on, the older generation is stuck in the past. It even has a big influence on nowadays society."

"I don't get it why the sentiments should be anti-American. The Russians liberated the country, not Americans," Duo objected.

"Yeah, but after the war ended, the Americans didn't acknowledge Romania's support because the country had chosen to collaborate with Nazi Germany first. It took a coup to put them back on the allies' side, remember?"

"The allied forces were comprised of more than just Americans. Why single one group out?"

"It's how the people feel, Duo."

"I know, I know. Well, why don't we put politics aside for today and just enjoy the spa?"

"I was hoping you'd say that."

The spa was located in a grey-stoned building with large arches on the front, looking like a medieval mansion. Heero bought two entrance tickets and a young girl who could be Mila's twin sister, gave them a quick tour. Duo was impressed by the modern baths and the large swimming pool, aching to get into the water. The girl showed them the facilities where they could change, shower, or rest. She asked if they had booked or wanted any special treatments, like massages or therapy, but Duo declined. He just wanted to enjoy the thermal water and he was excited to hear that he could also visit a sauna. They changed into bathrobes and slippers, Duo balancing the footwear on his toes before putting them on. As they entered the pool area, he made some heads turn; people stared at his long braid as he walked by. Heero didn't mind, as long as those looks didn't turn into something else. But the way he comported himself, walking behind Duo like a bodyguard, made those looks quickly redirect themselves to elsewhere.

"Oooh, amazing," Duo said as he entered the water. "So lovely and warm! Get in, Heero!"

"All right, all right." Heero dipped his toe in the water. Silly of course, he knew it was warm, but he wasn't very fond of swimming. He preferred an assault course, running or playing an intense game of soccer to something as silly as floating in a huge tub of water. Duo's enthusiasm was contagious though, and he joined him in the water, occasionally greeting other guests with a curt nod. Duo was already on the other side of the large bath, clinging to the edge.

"I want to go outside," he said, pointing at the large row of windows, offering a wonderful view of the thermal spring, nested between the building and the foothill of the Faragas mountains.

"You can take your time," Heero said. "We have all day, Duo."

"I know, and I plan to enjoy every minute of it!"

Heero wanted to kiss him, but they had decided a long time ago to keep their affection private, not public. Duo knew what he wanted and batted his eyes extra seductively, just to tease him. Grinning, he said: "I know you don't like swimming that much, Heero. You don't have to stick to my side all day, if you don't want to."

"I brought a book with me, just in case I get bored."

"Excellent." Duo turned around. "I love this! I don't feel any pain or discomfort. And no, Heero, I'm not going to install a thermal bath in Maxwell Manor. The leg issue is temporary, remember?"

"It's not if you keep overexerting yourself," Heero said severely. "You have the bad habit to ignore your own limits, Duo Maxwell."

"Yes, nanny Yuy." He rolled his eyes. "I'm going to go outside, then visit the sauna, then back to the pool and then I'm going to do it all over again until it's the end of the day. You're welcome to join me, and if not, have some fun yourself."

"I'm certain I will," Heero said, but he didn't mean it the way Duo thought he did. He had already spotted the tall man on the other side of the pool, who was taking longer than necessary to undo his bathrobe. He'd been looking at Duo, who had his back turned to him. Heero locked eyes with the man briefly, just to let him know he had spotted him. To his dismay, the man met his gaze heads-on and showed a small smile. His bathrobe came off, revealing a tattoo on his shoulder. Heero's eyes went wide. Two stylized lightning bolts. The man had some nerve to sport the _Siegrune_ in public. It made his stomach tie itself into knots. Who wanted to show his admiration for the Waffen SS so openly?


	6. Chapter 6

Duo happily went outside to visit the thermal bath, while Heero climbed out of the large pool, not breaking eye contact with the tall, tattooed man. Heero calmly put on his bathrobe and slippers and sauntered over to the man's side of the pool.

"Why were you looking at us?"

The man straightened himself, not perturbed at all by Heero's direct approach. "What's the problem?" He spoke without an accent. "I have eyes. I look around. No big deal."

"I don't like the way you were looking at my partner. Do you know him from somewhere?"

"Your partner is hard to miss."

"Don't tell me, you're subscribed to Archaeological Weekly?" Heero asked sarcastically. He didn't like the way the man had stressed 'partner'. He made it sound rather derisively. The man snorted.

"The magazines don't lie," he said. "About your protective streak."

Heero didn't have time to keep up with tabloids. "Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, my interest is purely professional. My name is Klaus Feldschweig."

"You already know who I am, so I won't bother."

"Exactly, Mister Yuy. I had hoped to get into contact with you in a different way. Like at the museum, or somewhere along the road. Something more appropriate. I want to enjoy the spa now."

"I don't know why you need to get into contact with either of us," Heero said, "but it won't happen today." He made a gesture with his head, to the man's shoulder. "We don't like to affiliate ourselves with those who support the Nazi ideology."

"Mister Yuy, please. This is hardly the time or place to discuss personal beliefs, don't you think?"

Heero discarded the dripping disdain, but now he knew why the name Feldschweig had rung a bell, albeit vaguely. "You're the author of ' _One Nation, One People, One Fate: Why Accepting Imperfection In Our Genes Will Lead Us To Our Demise_.'."

"So you've read my book?"

"No, but I heard enough about it." Heero stared the man straight in his cold, cold eyes. "Do tell me, how many concentration camps did you want to reinstall again?"

"It's a shame." Feldschweig dramatically shook his head. "You misinterpreted the entire message of my book. I held you for far more intellectual, Mister Yuy."

"I don't mind if I slide down on your list of people of interest."

"I'm only interested in superiority," Feldschweig answered. He looked bored. Heero decided not to bother with the man any longer.

"Don't try to come into contact with either Duo or me," he said. "We both won't appreciate it. And yes, you may interpret this as a threat. Those 'magazines' you've read, have just scratched the surface on what might happen if you come too close. I advise you against trying it out yourself." He didn't await Feldschweig's answer and brusquely turned around to stomp off. He felt incredibly dirty after talking to the man and he quickly hit the showers in a futile attempt to wash off the entire conversation.

* * *

Outside, Duo inhaled the fresh mountain air before he entered the thermal bath. His body adjusted quickly to the warm water and he sighed with relief when he felt all of his muscles relax. His right leg didn't give him any trouble, his entire body was completely weightless in the water. He swam to the edge of the pool and added a few laps as a way to exercise. The other guests greeted him friendly and Duo returned the greetings as he finished his laps. When he was done, he returned to the edge of the natural bath to unwind from all the swimming.

" _Turist?_ " The woman next to him, lazily floating in the water, showed him a perfect smile.

" _Britanic_ ," he answered.

"Oh, thank God!" She immediately switched to English. "I'm so bad at languages, but I love to talk to people. I can't identify your accent, though."

"Half American, half British," Duo elaborated. "Where are you from?"

"York, North Yorkshire. My name is Lauren White."

"Duo Maxwell."

"Nice to meet you, Duo." She closed the distance between them, clinging to the edge of the bath. "So… are you a tourist or are you here on business?"

"Tourist." He didn't see why he should tell someone he had just met, his exact reason to be here.

"I'm here for my fibromyalgia."

"Gesundheit!"

"No, it's a chronic…"

"I'm sorry, it was a bad joke. I know what fibromyalgia is."

Lauren wasn't offended. "I rather hear a bad joke than the inevitable "But you're too young to have fibromyalgia! You're too handsome to be sick!" As if age, or appearance, is of any influence on a disease or bad genes. What exactly are you here for? I noticed your slight limp."

He was impressed with her keen eye. "A complicated leg fracture, recently healed. I'm the kind of guy who puts way too much pressure on it because he can't sit still."

"You're that impatient, huh?"

"Pretty much. Do you come here often?"

"I try to visit this spa at least once a year, but well.. finances and stuff. My health insurance doesn't cover my trips, because they think it's 'too experimental'."

"Sounds incredibly frustrating."

"Yes, especially because I can prove to them I feel so much better after a few days here. This mineral water works wonders for my joints. Say…" She batted her eyes at him. "… what do you think about coffee, or dinner? They serve very nice _tochiturǎ_ here."

"Pork, huh?" Duo shook his head. "I'm sorry Lauren, but the boyfriend would disagree."

"Damnit," she said. "All right, where is he? I have to see the one who has ruined my chances."

"He's inside," Duo said. "He's not much of a swimmer. I do think he was up for a visit to the sauna, though."

"I can really recommend the one with eucalyptus. A heaven for your sinuses and bronchi."

"You're a nurse..?"

"Nah, I've just been to hospitals a lot, due to my bad health."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Lauren shrugged. "Not everyone can be in a perfect condition, like that guy over there."

Duo turned his head into the direction she was pointing at, only to see a tall man with short-cropped hair walking near the edge of the bath. He was indeed in peak physical condition; all ripped muscles and not a grain of fat, his body was perfectly proportioned. He passed Duo and Lauren, walking briskly past them, but not greeting them.

"I think he's going to dunk himself into that cold water bath over there." Lauren shuddered at the thought. Duo tilted his head a little, but he couldn't notice anything extraordinary about the man, not from this angle. Still, there was something… odd about him.

"I'm going to hit the sauna," he said. "It was nice to meet you, Lauren."

"Nice to meet you too, Duo."

Duo exited the bath and put his robe on. The chilly air temperature was quite different from the warm water and he hurried back inside. The sauna facilities were on the ground floor and he used them to his liking: soaking up the heat into his very core, taking a cool plunge bath and repeating the cycle until he was done. Taking one last, cold shower, Duo put on his robe again and went to search for Heero. It was getting late and his stomach growled to remind him that it was probably far past lunch hour. He located Heero next to the indoor pool, comfortably on a chair, a book in hand.

"There you are." Duo ruffled his unruly hair. Heero closed the book and slipped it into a bag before Duo could read the cover.

"And there you are," Heero said. "I thought you had melted by now. Did you try out every sauna?"

"Yeah, the dry one, the eucalyptus one, the infrared one, the bio-therapy one…"

"Never mind. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Yeah, but now I'm hungry. What time is it?"

"A little past four. We can have an early dinner, if you like."

"We totally skipped lunch! Man, I feel like I could eat a horse. I want to sit on a terrace in front of a restaurant, have some wine and a candlelit dinner and talk for hours."

Heero raised an eyebrow. It was very rare for Duo to drink alcohol, he simply didn't like it. "Well, I can see you have made plans for tonight. Care to include me?"

"But of course! You're such a fundamental element of my life, I didn't think to name you explicitly. You're all-included."

"Lucky me." Heero got up from his chair and grabbed the bag with the book. "Let's go."

On their way to the dressing room, he asked Duo: "What were you and the woman talking about?"

"Who, Lauren? She asked me if I was a tourist and we got to talk about why we were at the thermal bath. She has fibromyalgia, so she's here for health reasons."

"Did someone else talk to you?"

"No. I wasn't in the mood for talking that much anyway. Why do you ask? You already saw me talking to Lauren."

"Just curious."

Duo looked at him, the question unspoken between them, but he didn't press the issue. They finished dressing and left the bathhouse.

"Your cheeks are rosy," Heero couldn't help but tease him a little, "you look very relaxed and healthy."

"I feel relaxed and healthy indeed," Duo said as he straightened himself. "It's nice to be back on my feet, though. It's nice to get pampered for a day, but I prefer some action."

"What kind of action? Food? Which restaurant would you like, or do you want to eat at the hotel?"

"Smartass." Duo nudged Heero at the elbow. "I don't care where we eat, as long as I get plenty of food! All that swimming made me hungry."

* * *

"We should get back to the hotel." Duo tried to hide a huge yawn behind his hand. The waiter had taken away their plates and had brought dessert; for once Duo had indulged into two scoops of ice cream, whereas Heero had ordered coffee. "Tomorrow we'll get started on the search for the paintings, all right?"

"Fine by me." Heero sloshed the last of his coffee around in the cup. It was much stronger than British coffee; fortunately his body dealt well with the extra amount of caffeine. "I'll take care of the bill."

The restaurant they had chosen, wasn't far from the hotel and leisurely, they walked back, talking about nothing in particular. The Jankoviç family hotel wasn't fully booked, so it wasn't strange to find no one in the reception area. Heero took the key to their room out of his pocket. He suppressed a yawn. Apparently, doing totally nothing could tire one out. He swung the door open and stepped inside, immediately followed by Duo.

"Well, fuck me," Duo said as he saw the gigantic mess. "Who the fuck keeps pulling this shit?"

Heero dropped immediately into a fighter's stance, even though the hotel room was devoid of the unwanted visitors. He made sure to check the bathroom, but nobody was there either. Duo picked up the empty suitcase from the floor.

"Someone isn't pleased with our stay," he said sourly. "Fortunately, they didn't cut everything up."

"Why don't you sit down," Heero said. "I'll clean it up."

"Just throw the clothes on the bed so I can fold them." Duo sat down and checked the inside of his suitcase. He was relieved that the burglars hadn't found the secret compartment with the Sig Sauer. Whoever had ransacked the place, had been sloppy; they had just tossed everything upside down and thrown everything through the room. It didn't look like they, whoever they were, had been searching for something in particular, or so he thought. Heero checked his digital camera.

"They took the memory card," he said. "They're going to be surprised when they see nothing but innocent pictures of houses, churches and some landscapes."

"Anything else missing? Cash? Fine china? Jewelry?"

"I don't know what you brought along," Heero said dryly, "but I left the Rolexes and the keys to the Rolls at home."

"You're so funny." Duo started folding up their clothes, albeit messily, and put all of it back in the suitcase. "Is this another kind of warning? Another 'Get out', 'You're getting to close'?"

"I don't know. I have to say this region displays quite some hostility, especially after we asked in Brsiç about the hospital. What do you think?"

"I'm not sure. I don't feel at ease around here, but not unsafe either. What should we do? Go back to Bucharest, or move to another hotel?"

"We haven't finished our investigation; more so, we barely started. We stay. We're not going to allow others to chase us away!"

"Bloody hell not!" Duo had only just finished his sentence when a knock on the door startled them both. Heero balled his fists while Duo's hand slipped into the secret compartment in the suitcase, his fingers curling around the trigger of the Sig Sauer.

"Who's there!" Heero barked. The door went open, slowly.

"Please, forgive me," a trembling male voice with a heavy accent spoke. "It's Grigore Jankoviç, owner of the hotel."

He had to be Mila's father. Duo motioned at Heero as he let go of the gun. "Come on in, sir."

The man showed himself, carefully, slowly, holding up his hands as if he was afraid of getting shot - which befuddled Duo. Did the man know they concealed a weapon in one of his hotel rooms? He could clearly see the stress on his face, and his eyes darting back and forth. The owner didn't mention a thing about the mess, though.

"Please," he said again.

"What is it you want?" Heero asked crudely.

"My family," Grigore stuttered. He was hard to understand, but Duo got the gist from those few words already.

"Did they threaten you? Whoever did this," he pointed at the scattered furniture, "has threatened you?"

The man swallowed. "Yes. Yes, please, you have to leave. You can get money back. Family will get hurt when you stay."

"Who did this? Did you see them?"

Grigore shook his head wildly. "Please, no questions! I have daughter, I have sons… my wife…"

Heero was about to ask him again when Duo cut him off: "Leave him, Heero. Can't you see he's scared out of his mind? We better leave, or something will happen to the Jankoviç family."

"You get money back," Grigore insisted and took out a white envelope. Duo raised his hands as if to fend the man off. "Take it." He pressed it into Duo's hands.

"Just keep it. It's no big deal." Duo tried to give it back, but as soon as his fingers touched the envelope, he suddenly halted. He had paid the hotel in cash - and this envelope was way too thin to hold the same amount of money. A check, perhaps? Duo made eye contact with Grigore, just for a second before the elder man averted his gaze. Something else was in the envelope and Duo tucked it inside his own shirt, to keep it safe.

"We'll go now, Heero," he said. Heero didn't protest. They trusted each other's instincts, and Heero never questioned Duo's decisions, and vice versa; without another comment, he grabbed his own suitcase and put his belongings in it. Grigore looked awful, a pale face with bloodshot eyes, and he kept wringing his hands as Duo and Heero finished packing their belongings.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered when they were about to leave. Duo put his hand on his shoulder in passing.

"It's not your fault," he said. "Say our goodbyes to Mila. We don't want you to get into any kind of trouble."

"Thank you," Grigore said and Duo let him be. He followed Heero outside, who opened the backdoor of the Jeep to slide both their suitcases in. Duo didn't look back at the family hotel, instead he hopped into the driver's seat. Heero followed suit.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

"Bucharest is at least a four hour drive," Heero said, frowning. "We're both tired, but if we switch places every hour..?"

"We can go back to Brsiç," Duo said, "and ask Branka for help. Maybe she knows a place where we can stay."

"It's late, Duo."

"What happened to 'We're not going to allow others to chase us away!'? Someone is trying to get us out of the way, and you know what happens when someone tries to do that."

"He awakens Duo Maxwell's pit bull terrier-like tenacity," Heero sighed. He had to admit though, that all these strange circumstances fascinated him. His reaction was to dig his heels into the sand and stick around too; this wasn't about picking on Americans or tourists. Something deep was buried in Brasov county, and they hadn't even started to dig yet. He looked at Duo, the man he loved so much, at the same time Duo looked at him. They kissed.

"Let's get these motherfuckers," Duo breathed into the kiss.

"Just fuckin' drive," Heero answered.


	7. Chapter 7

"Motherfuckers," Duo kept repeating, muttering under his breath, from time to time. Heero understood his frustration, so he didn't bother correcting his lover's foul language. He was bothered by something else, or rather, by someone else: Klaus Feldschweig. Heero couldn't believe it was a coincidence that he had met the man, right then, at that moment at the spa. The way the man comported himself had unnerved him. Feldschweig was a wolf, lurking in the shadows, and ready to strike. Heero had no doubt that the man had killed, probably with his bare hands. Those cold eyes, that perfectly calm demeanor… Heero tried to be as objective as possible, but Feldschweig had pushed all the wrong buttons, especially the way he'd been talking about Duo. Subtle, yet threatening. The thought of something bad happening to Duo, was sickening. He was convinced that Feldschweig was capable of anything, and he pondered what he could do about this man.

"Why are you looking so angry, dear?" Duo asked out of the blue.

"This whole situation bothers me," Heero answered truthfully.

"Yeah, me too. What kind of asshole do you have to be to threaten an entire family? Poor Grigore. Poor Mila."

Klaus Feldschweig would classify immediately, or so Heero thought, but he didn't voice it out loud. Instead, he stared in front of him, lost in thoughts. Duo didn't continue the conversation; despite being an excellent navigator, he needed all his focus and concentration to find the way to Brsiç in the pitch-dark. The sturdy Jeep dealt with the rougher parts of the road, the 4 wheel drive had no difficulties with the terrain. It was another fifteen minutes to the town when Duo cleared his throat.

"Say, before we get into town, how are we going to do this? I don't want to involve Branka and her family, and run the risk that they'll be threatened too."

"I have the feeling that the Silivaş aren't that quick to be intimidated, but you're right, we should avoid getting innocent people caught up in whatever is going on," Heero answered.

"What about Alexandru? You know, the son of the garage owner who sold us the four new tires? Three strapping young men are even less quick to be intimidated."

"The father is old and vulnerable," Heero objected.

"We can't spend the night in the Jeep, Heero. I'm sure Branka can take care of herself, but if I were the bad guy, I'd go for the 'weak' girl, and not for three sons who have worked with heavy machinery and tools their entire lives."

"Yes, you're right. We can ask if we can spend the night at their garage, and we'll see what happens in the morning."

"All right." Duo stepped on the gas and soon enough, at the entrance of Brsiç, the garage with the _servicii complete_ sign came into view. Duo killed the Jeep's headlights; the entire environment went dark. It was around two past midnight.

"Well, let's get this over with." Duo wasn't looking forward to wake up anyone of the brothers or their father, but drastic times called for drastic measures. No other hotel would accept them; he had the feeling that the entire town of Çleçiani had been 'warned' about them. Heero knocked onto the wooden front door of the building, increasing the volume with every knock.

" _Ce dracu? Cine-i acolo?_ " A gruff, annoyed voice was overheard.

"We're sorry to disturb you," Heero said. "Can you please help us?"

One of the windows of the adjacent building opened and this time one of the brothers stuck his head out, grumbling. Duo heaved a sigh of relief.

"Alexandru! Can you help us, please?"

Holding up an oil lamp, the eldest son squinted at Duo and Heero, before recognition settled in. "Your tires are broke again?"

"No, no, they're fine," Duo said. "We need a place to sleep, Alexandru. Can you get us inside? Just a mattress will do."

"Just a moment." Alexandru closed the window again. After a couple of minutes of stumbling and fumbling, he opened the door, while rubbing in his eyes. He looked like he'd thrown on the first thing he could find, as he was dressed in totally mismatching baggy pants and an oversized shirt.

"Thank you so much," Duo said as he stepped inside. Alexandru yawned. He handed Duo the oil lamp, so he could see where he was going. The garage was cluttered with tools and equipment, various cars and boxes filled with junk, a veritable scrap yard crammed into a few square meters. Without another word, Alexandru beckoned to them and they left the garage, going through the door that connected the workspace to the living quarters. Duo and Heero ended up in a small, yet cozy kitchen; Alexandru mumbled an apology about the dirty dishes in the sink.

"We're very sorry to overwhelm you like this," Heero said. "We were… requested to leave Çleçiani and we need a place to sleep, just for tonight. We don't want to be a bother."

"We have room in attic," Alexandru said, keeping his voice low. The rest of the household was still asleep, and he wanted to keep it that way. Duo and Heero nodded in understanding and followed him to the stairs, making as little noise as possible. Alexandru climbed the rickety stairs and went ahead to the attic, motioning to mind their heads as the ceiling was low. It was hard to move around with a mountain of boxes piled on top of each other and dark wooden cabinets taking up space from floor to ceiling, cramping the already small attic. However, tucked away in the corner was a metal-framed bed, complete with mattress and pillows, and sheets and blankets on top. Alexandru removed some clothes and chased a cat away, which had nested between the sheets.

"I'll tell my family in the morning," he said, "about you being here. Be careful." With the clothes on his arms, he descended the stairs again, leaving Duo and Heero in the attic, with the oil lamp to provide a little bit of light.

"Cozy," Duo said.

"Romantic," Heero added.

"I'm about to keel over. It's going to be a rough night, I guess."

"I'll sleep on the floor," Heero said. "I know you need your space."

"That's not funny," Duo snipped. Heero didn't make fun of him, it wasn't a secret that Duo was prone to restless sleeping and tossing and turning. It wasn't a problem at home, where the bed was quite large, but this bed was obviously much smaller. He looked at a few articles of clothing that Alexandru had forgotten to take with him. "Hey, Heero…?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you think…" Duo got on the bed and showed Heero the clothes. "…this is all quite girly?"

Heero touched the white, lace fabric. "It looks like a _maramã_ , just like the one Branka was wearing. It's very traditional female headgear around here."

"Weird. Is this some kind of secret snuggle place for the brothers and their girlfriends?"

"I doubt it, Duo. Alexandru wouldn't have shown it to us, even if it were…" Heero put the fabric aside, tired.

"Maybe the family consisted of more than just three sons?"

"Or it could be their mother's." Heero nudged him. "Can we please go to bed now?"

"Sure, sure." Duo pulled his shirt over his head, when something rustled against his skin. "What's that?"

"The envelope Grigore gave me when we left," Duo said. He had totally forgotten about it. Heero plucked the envelope from between the folds of Duo's shirt and held it up. "Our money back?"

"No, it's something different. Open it, please?" Duo watched as Heero tore open the envelope and pulled out a small piece of paper. He unfolded it. "What does it say?"

"Here." Heero gave the piece of paper to Duo, who immediately read the one and only written line of text: _Help us._

"Jesus fuck Heero, what's going on?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it one bit." The small, but round handwriting was more than probably a female signature; it had to be Mila's. Heero regretted that he hadn't brought his Remington along. The heavy shotgun sure would come in handy for some serious protection. After a moment of silence, Duo put the piece of paper back in the envelope and continued undressing. Heero followed his example, understanding that there was nothing they could do at the moment anyway, and fatigue was claiming them. Duo moved around to make room for Heero on the bed and they pulled out the sheets and blankets to cover themselves. Heero took Duo in his arms for a firm hug, and that his hug was tighter than usual was welcomed by Duo, who responded by returning the gesture, almost just as firm.

* * *

Heero woke up in an empty bed. Usually he was the first one to rise in the morning; it didn't worry him at all that Duo was already up. He had so much energy, even though he liked snuggling up to Heero and enjoying the wee hours of a brand new day. Heero stretched himself, his back slightly aching. The mattress was thin and small, and he had spent the night in a very uncomfortable position. He swung his legs over the edge and stretched once more. Heero was alerted by the footsteps on the stairs, but he dropped his defensive position when he saw it was Duo, carrying a tray.

"Breakfast is served, my love," he announced. Duo put the tray on the bed: slices of bread, scrambled eggs, feta cheese, a bowl of yogurt and some cold cuts, along with a huge jar of fruit juice and two glasses.

"Not bad," Heero said. "Can I get dressed first?"

"No, you look cute in your boxers. Let's eat, I'm famished."

Duo poured juice as Heero took a bite from the bread. "It's delicious, still warm!"

"Ferenç made it fresh this morning," Duo said. "He's the youngest. Dragos is the middle one. They got a good business going on, it's been in the family for generations. Their grandfather started out with oil and coals, their father expanded with ovens and engines, and the sons added car repairs. There's just nothing they can't fix."

"So you got to talk to them? Are all the brothers aware of our… eh, presence here?"

"Yes, Alexandru told them this morning. They don't seem to mind much, but I don't want to impose on the family. I have to find the motherfuckers who are behind this. I want answers."

"Where do you want to start? You got a plan?"

"Not really," Duo answered sheepishly. He ate another piece of feta, and munched on the cheese. "I don't have a clue where to start. I'd like to talk to Branka and find out where all these sentiments come from. WWII happened quite some time ago, but it feels like it's still fresh in the collective mind around here. I'm curious to know why these sentiments linger. Slashing a couple of tires to scare away someone, fine, but to actually threaten a family with God knows what… I have a feeling it's all connected. Someone's keeping an eye on us."

 _Feldschweig?_ Heero hadn't thought of the possibility. He got angry at the thought that the man, by casually showing himself at the spa, delicately was rubbing it in that he was the superior one, perhaps pulling all the strings.

"There you go again," Duo said.

"What?"

"That angry look on your face. Just like in the car, yesterday."

"Sorry, but this guy just pisses me off."

"What guy? Anyone from the Pârvulescu family?"

Heero shook his head and told Duo everything about the tall man with the Waffen SS tattoo. Duo listened attentively, frowning as the story unfolded. "You should've told me right away, Heero. ' _One Nation, One People, One Fate: Why Accepting Imperfection In Our Genes Will Lead Us To Our Demise'_ sounds exactly like the book I'd want on my coffee table." Grimacing with disgust, Duo's eyes widened suddenly. "That was the book you were reading at the spa, right?"

Heero confessed to buying the book. "I'm obviously not subscribing to this man's ideals, Duo, but I want to know more about his background. I want to know who we're dealing with. And the most shocking thing was, that I could buy it right there, at the spa's reception desk."

"Unbelievable. It feels like we've just opened one big, stinking snake pit."

"And we haven't even started on the paintings yet."

"Maybe we should just leave." Duo sounded hesitant. "Go back home and tell Acht that we have no leads on the paintings and that it's no use. It's a goodwill mission, nobody expects us to succeed… I don't like the idea of quitting, but Nazis scare me."

"If you want to go home, we go home," Heero said. He finished the last of his fruit juice. "I go where you go."

"I know." Duo pecked him on the cheek. "But let's not give up right now. Get dressed and then we'll go to the museum."

After Heero was dressed, Duo took the tray with the dirty dishes downstairs, into the kitchen. Dragos was busy with cleaning, but he declined Duo's offer to help. The rest of the family was either outside or in the garage, so they went on their way to the museum. When they crossed the central plaza with the bronze fountain, Duo couldn't help himself but to stick his hands in the cold, fresh water, like a little kid about to splash it all over. Heero let him be, but as he scanned the area, he saw a familiar face: Stjepan Djurdjevic, carrying a large crate with vegetables. The young man caught his glare and his face reddened. Heero had no urge to talk to him, not having forgotten how awkward the situation turned after they had inquired about the hospital, when having lunch at the family's restaurant. Nonetheless, Stjepan turned away and hurried inside the building. Duo hadn't seen him and as he pulled his hands from the water, he said: "All right, let's go."

The door to the museum was wide open, revealing Branka with a broom, sweeping the floor. "Good morning," she greeted the both of them friendly. "You come back for more history?"

"A lot more," Duo said. "Can we kidnap you for the rest of the day to revel in your mighty wisdom and knowledge?"

Branka didn't understand the word 'kidnap' at first, but she got the gist that Duo wanted to talk to her. "I have to ask my father," she said. " _Tatâ? Tatâ_ , can you come here?"

A middle-aged man came into the hallway, drying his hands with a cloth. He was slightly overweight and dressed in non-traditional clothing: jeans and a hellish bright, purple shirt. "I'm right here, Branka." He looked at Duo and showed him a large smile. "Ah, _turist American_! Thank you so much for your generous gift!"

"No problem," Duo said. "Your daughter helped us a lot. We would like to ask her a few more questions about history, if you'd like to give us permission?"

"Permission, bah, not necessary! Tourists are always welcome here! Come in, come in! My name is Lubjan Silivaş."

"You're the mayor of this town," Heero said.

"True! What is your name, young man?"

"Apologies," Duo said. "My name's Duo Maxwell and this is my partner, Heero Yuy."

"Such difficult names," Lubjan smiled. "Forgive me if I pronounce it wrong. English not my native language!"

"We can understand you just fine," Duo reassured him.

"Branka told me a little bit about you," Lubjan said. "You asked about the war cemetery, right? Come, into my house! My grandfather was a hero of the resistance. I can tell you lots!"

With an ecstatic smile, Duo followed Lubjan into the building. Heero stayed behind as Branka started sweeping the floor again.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked her.

"When men are talking, most women don't want to be around," she said. She looked at her father's retreating back. "Some men send their wife to the kitchen, as that's her place to be."

"Is your father that old-fashioned?" Heero remembered how Alexandru went to university for a year, until his family couldn't afford it no more. Old-fashioned, outdated traditions and poverty, stuck in the claws of a dark past. Not a wonderful environment to grow up in. "You're always welcome to join us," he said.

"You love him very much, don't you?" Branka's voice was a whisper. Heero was thrown off by her remark.

"What?"

"I wish I could know the same kind of love," she sighed and her fingers tightened around the broomstick. "But all I get here, is the wrong kind of love."

"What do you mean?"

"The same reason why you were chased out of town," she said. "Romania for the Romanians. My family is of Roma descent. We're gypsies. My father is extremely proud of it, but I'm afraid it's going to be the death of him. Our descent doesn't make us 'pure'. My father won the mayor elections because the opposite party was the worst choice of two evils."

"Djurdjevic," Heero said, rather shocked by her harsh words.

"Marku Djurdjevic is a bad man," Branka said. "A very bad man, and his son is also bad. He follows me around and he keeps telling me how I should be 'purified'. He says he loves me, but our love can't be true because of my imperfection, until…"

"Until what?"

"Until something happens, I don't know. I told him that I didn't love him, so all his talk about 'our' love is moot. I don't like him. Yet, he clings to the thought of whatever 'relationship' we supposedly have. He scares me."

Heero wasn't afraid of Stjepan. "If you want me to, I can talk to him. I can guarantee you that he'll never bother you again."

"That's very kind of you," she said and lowered her eyes. "But I'm afraid it would make matters only worse. You should go to my father and Duo now."

"He'll bring me up to speed later," Heero said. "Look, if Stjepan is giving you trouble…"

"I'm sure he's responsible for slashing your wheels," she said, and kept her voice even lower. "Alexandru told me all about it. Stjepan and his father don't want tourists around here. They don't want anyone snooping around."

Heero stared intently at the girl. "Branka… if you know what's going on, please tell me. What _is_ the big secret around here?"

"You have to be strong," she whispered. "Or that man will kill us all."

"Feldschweig?" Heero asked. The girl cringed so dramatically that he knew enough. "All right, I don't want you to get in any kind of trouble." He was reminded of Mila's letter. _Help us._ "We'll take care of this," he said, "I promise."


	8. Chapter 8

Duo followed Lubjan into the living room, which was stuffed to the brim with furniture and knick-knacks. He zigzagged between the large sofa and the two large seats, all covered with afghans and colorful cushions.

"Sit, sit please!" Lubjan made a wide movement with his arm, suggesting that Duo could sit anywhere he wanted. He walked towards a sturdy, tall oak hutch and opened its cabinet to retrieve a photo book. Duo chose the seat closest to the window, so he had the best light to view the pictures. Lubjan handed him the book.

"You open it, I talk," he said. "But not before coffee! Branka..?"

"Coming, _tatâ_!"

Duo opened the book, unable to contain his curiosity. The pictures were grainy, obviously aged, but the images in itself were quite clear: World War II, a country in ruins, Nazi-adepts and illegal resistance. A time when the entire world was trampled by a horrible ideology, geared towards eradication and destruction.

"Grandfather," Lubjan said. "Andrei Silivaş. Not even devil could scare him. He spat on Nazis from the beginning."

Branka entered the living room, carrying a tray with mugs and a large coffee pot. She also had plated a large _amandine_ , a type of chocolate cake. Heero was right behind her and helped her to serve everyone before he sat on the armrest of Duo's chair. The girl excused herself.

"I've heard these stories time and time again," she said. "So if you don't mind…"

"It's all right, thank you so much for your help," Duo said. She made a curtsy to him, smiling.

Lubjan watched his daughter's retreating back, frowning. It wasn't a disapproving frown, more like a worried frown. Heero caught his gaze, and the mayor coughed awkwardly. He picked up his coffee and stirred it, as Branka had put in quite some milk and sugar. Heero handed Duo his coffee and a slice of the cake, so he balanced the photo book on his knees.

"You must realize, Romanians proud people, very proud people," Lubjan said. "But lots of ethnicities, different people. You ready for history lesson?"

"Bring it on," Duo said, managing to eat the cake and enjoy his coffee almost at the same time. Heero listened attentively.

"Our country remained neutral when World War II started. But when war started, secret pacts were made to not help the enemy of the other party."

"The Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact," Heero provided.

"Excellent knowledge of history, young man." Lubjan drained the last of his coffee with a big swig. "Secret pact forced our country to give up large parts of land: Bessarabia, Northern Bukovina and the Hertza region. Bad, very bad. Our beautiful country, divided by power-hungry assholes." He paused for a moment. "Not going to bother you with politics," he said, though the tone of his voice belied his words, "politics should be discussed over a good meal, now it's too early. From 1941 on, Antonescu took power. Bad man, bad man. Chose the side of Nazi Germany to 'win back' what we had lost to Soviets."

"But the Soviet army was stronger, right?" Duo said. "Hundreds of thousands of young Romanian soldiers died at Stalingrad."

"Yes, yes." The older man heaved a deep sigh. "Too late, it was all too late. It was already 1944 when Mihai, our king, joined forces with the Allies. We fought for our freedom - but when the war was over and victory declared, Romania was seen as an opportunist, a coward who sides with the Nazis first, then the Allies. We were never acknowledged for our efforts to fight alongside the French, the British, the Americans..."

"Subsequently, Romania was run over by the Red Army and the communist party became the leading party," Heero finished his sentence.

Lubjan nodded. "Our country was modeled after Russia, abandoned by the rest of the world. I grew up under Ceauşescu and his megalomaniacal 'politics'. We lived in fear for the _Securitate_ , and we were always cold and hungry."

"So that might explain the current anti-American sentiments around here," Duo said, pensive. "I mean… You guys got the short end of the stick during WWII, then the communists waltzed all over you and the western countries abandoned you…"

"Anti-American, Anti-Russian, Anti-European," Lubjan said, downtrodden. "That's why so dangerous around here. People like Marku Djurdjevic deny everything that has happened here, and want to start over."

"Start over?" Heero repeated.

The mayor rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes. Away with Americans, away with Russians, Romania for Romanians. Full-blooded Romanians, not Roma."

"Gypsies?" Duo asked, not understanding.

"We're not _ţigani_ ," Lubjan said defensively. "We are _Rromi_!"

"A veritable melting pot," Heero said. He remembered Branka's words that got an eerie, dark touch to them after what Lubjan just told.

"And with so many sentiments, emotions and feelings, it's just a matter of time before someone lights the fuse and everything will explode," Duo said. He put his empty mug to the side so he had more room for his unfinished slice of cake. Heero drew his lips in a tight line. He had a sinking feeling who was more than willing to lit said fuse: Klaus Feldschweig. It didn't sit well with him, how Branka had paled and cringed at just the mention of the man's name.

"But, no talking about politics!" Lubjan laughed a little too loud and put his hands up, slapping them together. "You wanted to know about war cemetery!"

"True," Duo said. "Branka mentioned something about it being removed…?"

"We had war cemetery here, yes. Big news when Alliance came to identify soldiers. Tourists, news reporters! But Djurdjevic ruined it all, wanted to send everyone away."

"Branka told us that he accused everyone of being a collaborator?"

Lubjan pointed at his temple and circled with his finger. "The man's crazy. Good food, but crazy. Says something one week, says something else next week. We told him that his family could be amongst the fallen soldiers. He didn't want to know a thing about it! All collaborators, all bad people, he kept saying."

"What did the Alliance do?" Heero said, intrigued.

"Brsiç very small," Lubjan answered. "The cemetery was larger. So many dead… everything moved to outside of town, one monument for all of them."

"So... no individual graves or markers?" Duo asked.

"Monument. One stone wall, with names engraved. Branka can take you there."

"I'd like to see it," Duo said. "And your grandfather?"

"Andrei Silivaş," Lubjan simply beamed at the memory of his grandfather. "Big hero! Great hero!" He shook his head. "Terribly, terribly damaged by war. Said things that he'd seen happen, it made him so sad. So young when he was fighting, so old when war was over. I loved to listen to his stories, but in the end he… got a little carried away. He left me a lot of letters, and I wanted to publish them… but there are so many books about WWII already, and I… didn't want to add to it." He grabbed the empty coffee pot. "Let me get you more!"

Duo wanted to protest, that he had had enough coffee already, but Lubjan was out of the living room before he could stop him. The infamous Romanian hospitality was full at work here, and it wouldn't surprise him if the mayor would invite them to stay over for dinner as well.

"What are you thinking?" Heero asked. He used the moment to steal a kiss, eliciting a warm smile from Duo.

"I don't know. Like we said before, this isn't our mission," Duo said. "We're here to try to recover paintings, and not to get involved into this hotbed of a war cemetery, anti-Western sentiments and conflicted ethnicities."

"True that." Heero shifted back into his previous position when Lubjan swooped back into the living room again, carrying a refilled coffee pot and more _amandine_. He also carried a shoebox and put it on the coffee table. With reverend gestures, he lifted up the lid, revealing a collection of letters. The paper was so fragile that Duo didn't dare touch it.

"My grandfather's letters," Lubjan said. "You're welcome to read them."

"Thank you," Duo said, "but I can't read Romanian, I'm sorry."

Lubjan shoved the shoebox towards them. "I'm not sure what you're exactly doing here," he said, voice uncharacteristically grave. "Your tires were slashed, and I heard Djurdjevic about 'nosy strangers'. You have my blessing. As the mayor of Brsiç, I have to be careful what I say or do… but that doesn't mean I can't help you. Take it."

Heero leaned forward and accepted the shoebox, placing it onto his lap. Lubjan motioned at Duo to keep the photo book as well.

"Take it," he said. "You can give it back whenever. No hurry! No politics! We'll eat soon! Branka is making _sarmale_ , and you'll stay and eat! We have cheese and wine too, or do you prefer beer?"

* * *

"Well, as soon as we get home, I have to go on a diet," Duo said as he patted his belly. "All that food! Delicious!"

"It was a lovely dinner, yes," Heero agreed. He carried the shoebox with Andrei's letters and the photo book, but he didn't know what Lubjan Silivaş was trying to accomplish by giving it to him and Duo. Something the mayor wasn't telling him? As he walked alongside Duo, he kept his eyes peeled for Klaus Feldschweig. Somehow he expected the man to pop up after his ominous 'I had hoped to get into contact with you', his words at the spa. He remained silent for the rest of their way back to the Pãrvulescu's garage; the three brothers and their father were having dinner, and invited Duo and Heero to join them at the table.

"Thank you so much," Duo said, "but we had dinner at the mayor's house already. I'm so sorry, I'm stuffed!"

"You're an American, you're supposed to eat much! Burgers and fries!" Alexandru teased him, but Ferenç said: "You're just jealous! You want to eat at mayor's house too!" The rest busted out laughing while poor Alexandru turned red like a tomato. As they were speaking English, their father didn't understand but he heartily joined the laughter. Alexandru hid behind his napkin as Ferenç slapped his shoulder. Duo didn't really get the joke and took pity on the eldest son.

"Alexandru, would you mind taking a look at the Jeep? We want to go to Bucharest tomorrow and we need it in tiptop condition."

"I'll go look," he said, still red in the face.

"After dinner," Duo reminded him.

"After dinner," he repeated and quickly stuck his fork into the potatoes on his plate. Duo and Heero went upstairs to the attic, to their makeshift 'bedroom'. Duo flopped on the bed while Heero put the shoebox and the photo book away.

"Bucharest?" he said, arching an eyebrow.

Duo nodded and wiggled his feet, so Heero went over to take off his shoes. He always wore heavy, steel-toed boots with impossible long laces. "I figured that the library in Bucharest has better, modern equipment. I want to copy and scan those letters and send them over to Howard."

"So he can run them through translation software."

"Exactly. Oh Heero, you're so obedient today."

"Don't count yourself too lucky, young man." Heero dumped the boots on the floor. "Do discuss this kind of things beforehand, hm?"

"I'm sorry," Duo batted with his eyelashes exaggeratedly, "but I thought you fell in love with my fierce independence and no-nonsense non-conformism?"

"No-nonsense non-conformism?"

"Yeah! Try saying that five times fast!"

"Duo, a serious moment, please."

"All right, all right…" Duo propped himself up on one elbow. "I know we should go after the paintings. We should visit antiquaries, we should do research… I selected Romania to start our search, just because of the multi-cultural nature of this country… but I didn't think it was _this_ complicated."

"We can always extend our search, or move to a different country entirely. Perhaps Poland is a better choice?"

"I don't know." Duo looked pensive, and Heero understood what he was thinking about. Duo felt he'd be abandoning the people they had met here, who had reached out to him in a cry for help, if he would leave now. Turning his back to someone wasn't in Duo Maxwell's nature.

"You want to help them, and we should." Heero brought him up to speed about Branka's situation. Duo frowned.

"Poor girl, both her and Mila. What the hell's going on, Heero? That Feldschweig guy… why is he so important? Why does he hold so much influence?"

"We're going to find out," Heero said. "And we do what needs to be done about it." He looked at one of the suitcases, next to the bed, holding Duo's Sig Sauer. Duo grimaced.

"Let's not get too far ahead…"

"Bucharest first," Heero reassured him. "It's at least a four hour drive. Can you handle it? How's your leg?"

"Much better since our visit to the spa," Duo said. "I'd like to go back again… or to any other spa, for that matter. I really enjoyed the warm water!"

"We'll find one in the capital city. I take it you don't want to drive to and back in one day?"

"Oh no, we'll spend at least one night there! I'm not in any haste to return to Brsiç." He locked eyes with Heero. "We have to help these girls, Heero."

"I agree with you. I suggest we go to bed early and get as much rest as possible."

"Excellent idea." Duo moved his hands over his shirt, crinkling the garment. "Care to help..?"

"You're incorrigible," Heero said, but his smirk showed that he didn't have a problem with it.

* * *

They left early in the morning for Bucharest. Alexandru had serviced the Jeep and Duo was very satisfied as he shifted the gears.

"It goes so much easier now," he said.

"I guess he used a lot of oil," Heero said deadpan. The Jeep had been nothing short of a wreck when Duo had bought it, primarily for easy and cheap transport, but now he was really warming up to the vehicle, who proved to be a diamond in the rough.

"It needed more than just oil," Duo gave back. He loved cars and to tinker with them, but his work, both for the Maxwell Foundation and as an archaeologist-adventurer, left him little to no time to pick up his toolbox. He inhaled deeply, relaxed after a good night's sleep. Duo wasn't a morning person, but he had gotten up early for their trip to the capital city without any grumping or moping at all. They were so early that the Pãrvulescu family still was asleep, except for the middle brother, Dragos. He had made them some breakfast, and had insisted on packing them lunch; a large basket filled with enough food to last them the entire day, sat on the backseat of the Jeep.

"Just look at this, Heero," Duo said ecstatically. "The sky! The mountains!"

He agreed. "The landscape is breathtaking."

After two hours, he tapped Duo on the shoulder. "You okay? Should I take over?"

"The leg's fine, Heero," Duo said, an exuberant smile on his face. Traffic picked up as they approached the bigger cities, but Duo held himself to the maximum speed limit and the Jeep's engine hardly made a sound, as if it was brand new.

"You have the habit of overexerting yourself," Heero muttered but left it at that. They only stopped for a short break at Ploieşti and as Duo left the Jeep to fill up the tank, Heero quietly switched seats. Duo didn't mind and studied a map of the city, conveniently put in the glove compartment; Duo made a mental note to thank the brothers later. It was a handy map, with addresses to parking lots, the tourist information office, restaurants and hotels; even the library was marked on it.

"Biblioteca Academiei Romǎne," Duo said. "Sounds good to me, don't you think?"

"I agree. Is there a parking lot nearby?"

"Yeah, and some hotels too. We should set up camp there."

"Yes, commander-in-chief."

Within the next minute, Heero drove into the city, concentrating on traffic. Duo guided him through the streets, but they ended up at a parking lot further away than anticipated. He jumped out of the Jeep and rubbed his leg a little, stiff and slightly sore from the long ride.

"Well, at least we're here," he said, folding up the map. "It's almost a mile to the library."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to book a hotel first," Heero said. "Why don't you go ahead to the library? I'll catch up with you later."

"All right." Duo pointed east. "It's just down the road, all the way ahead."

"No problem. I'll find you." Heero closed the door of the Jeep and closed it off. As he turned the keys around, he withdrew them at the same moment, an awkward gesture which made him drop the keys. Tsk-ing, Heero reached for the keys and picked them up from the ground, when he noticed a small flash of light, a red light to be exact. It came from under the Jeep! Baffled, he stared into Duo's direction first; but the man he loved wasn't really a prankster, and he had had no time to put something under the car: they had constantly been in each other's presence. Duo was already gone for half a mile; he had a firm stride, bad leg or not. Heero lowered himself on one knee and twisted his torso so he could take a look under the Jeep. The small red light blinked at him and he hissed; could it be a bomb? No, the device sticking to the underside of the Jeep wasn't a bomb, it was far too plain. He reached for it and retrieved the small box, plucking it easily off of the underside. With his technology skills, Heero recognized it in an instant. It was a device that constantly emitted signals to confirm the location of the object it was attached to; a locating device. He gritted his teeth. Someone was keeping tabs on them. Someone really wanted to know what they were doing. This was grating on his nerves. This was getting personal, really fast.


	9. Chapter 9

_Biblioteca Academiei Romǎne_ , the National Library of Romania, was housed in a modern building and boasted a collection of over thirteen million objects, among them foreign old and rare books, audio-visual documents, prints and photographs, all kinds of manuscripts and a huge historical archive. Duo loved to visit libraries, but it also made him feel a little forlorn. His brother Solo had loved libraries even more; the older the written works, the better. Many of Duo's childhood memories were about Solo sitting at the large desk in the Maxwell Manor library, his chair too big and his feet barely able to reach the ground, with a pile of books taller than he was, next to him. Even now, it looked like Solo could emerge from behind the tall bookcases, his arms full with books, his glasses perching on the bridge of his nose and with that twinkle in his eyes that told Duo he'd found something fascinating. Along with the forlornness, came the huge feelings of guilt; Duo had coaxed Solo into joining him on his adventures, instead of staying at the Manor. After his initial hesitation, Solo had enjoyed going on expeditions as well, quickly learning that he could adapt his knowledge and skills in the 'real world'. For a few years, the Maxwell brothers were the authority on retrieving ancient artifacts regarded as mythical, non-existent or plain lost… up until their fated mission to recover artifacts from Atlantis, and Solo had drowned… Duo allowed the moment of grief, sadness and guilt to overwhelm him. There was nothing he could do about it, and repressing these emotions wouldn't do him any good. He really didn't want to reminisce right now, he had work to do, but he would never push thoughts about his brother away. After a few minutes, Duo took a deep breath. He was alone; nobody had witnessed his small moment of contemplation.

He focused at the task at hand. He located the modern printing and scanning equipment and spend the next hours scanning Andrei Silivaş' letters, sending them directly to Howard, along with an explanatory email. Between scanning and emailing, Duo checked his smartphone for messages, enjoying the fast wi-fi. Hilde was complaining about some guy she was seeing and in another email, she talked about a new kind of fabric she was developing. Howard had send him an update on the Manor and a few pictures; the renovation was progressing steadily. Duo kept scanning the letters, even when the dates on the fragile paper exceeded years after the war. As he was working, he wondered what took Heero so long. Surely it wasn't that hard to find a suitable hotel? It was for one night only, and neither one of them had extraordinary demands. Duo didn't worry though, if there was anyone who could take care of himself, it was Heero. In the meantime, he put another letter through the scanner. The bottom of the shoebox was nearly in sight. His thoughts wandered off to Heero again, but then to Mila and Branka, two young girls in danger. Finally, he thought about Feldschweig. Out of curiosity, Duo went to search for the book the man had written and sure enough, there was a copy available of _One Nation, One People, One Fate: Why Accepting Imperfection In Our Genes Will Lead Us To Our Demise_. Duo flipped through the book as he walked back to the scanner and read a couple of pages, feeling sick to his stomach.

"What a surprise," a female voice next to him said, "to meet you again!"

Duo almost dropped the book. It didn't happen very often that people were able to sneak up on him. He had been so engrossed, so morbidly fascinated by Feldschweig's writings that he had closed himself off for everything and everyone around him.

"Laura," he said, "no more spa for you?"

"Lauren," she corrected him friendly. "And no, my health insurance won't cover more than a few days, unfortunately."

"Oh yes, your fibromyalgia." Duo smiled sheepishly. He remembered talking to the young woman while at the spa in Çleçiani, but he didn't recall every detail. "How are you?"

"Okay, as far as I can be." She shrugged, then craned her neck a little. "I love a man who can multitask."

The scanner was diligently processing the last of Andrei's letters and Duo had carelessly put his smartphone on top of the shoebox. The phone beeped with incoming messages, and he was also holding the book, obviously showing that he'd been reading it. Duo twisted his arm to shove the scanned letters back into the shoebox and put his phone on silent in the same movement. He couldn't keep her from reading the title of the book, however.

"Feldschweig, huh?" she said. "I… didn't think you were into that."

"It's research, actually," Duo said apologetically. "I don't support an ideology like this."

"I see." Lauren tilted her head. "The last time we spoke, we didn't get to really know each other, did we? Did I mention what I do for a living? I study international communication and media, specializing in Eastern Europe relations."

"I see," Duo repeated her words.

"I know who you are," she continued, flirtingly. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it. Duo Maxwell, of the famous Maxwell collection. You're some kind of treasure hunter, aren't you?"

"I'm not," Duo said, slightly annoyed. He hated it when people equaled his work to 'treasure hunting'. "I track down and retrieve ancient artifacts, never for profit. These artifacts are always of great importance to international or local cultural heritage. While I do get paid for my expenses and time, any financial contribution goes straight towards the collection or charity."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Lauren said. She lowered her eyes. "I really said something bad, didn't I?"

"A treasure hunter implies that he's into it for the money," Duo explained to her. "I retrieve artifacts for their invaluable cultural and historical influence or significance."

"I understand. I'm so sorry! Can I make up for it by buying you a cup of coffee? Or would the boyfriend disagree about that as well?"

"A cup of coffee? No, I don't think he'd disagree." Duo was quick to let the irritation slide. After all, the whole 'treasure hunter'-thing was a common assumption and she didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his annoyance. A cup of coffee would do him good; it'd been hours since he had any caffeine. He grabbed the shoebox and followed her downstairs, to the library café, leaving Feldschweig's book on top of the scanner.

* * *

"Thank you," Heero said as he finished filling out the registration forms at the hotel reception desk. He had chosen _Europe Royale Bucharest_ , nothing extremely fancy or expensive, but it was housed in a 19th century building which he knew Duo would simply adore. The entire staff spoke English and the friendly girl at the reception desk offered him a room on the 4th floor. He took it and made his way up, carrying the overnight bag Duo had prepared. The room had a spectacular view on the Unirii square and Heero watched the traffic for a few moments, clearing his mind. He sat down at the small desk and took the locating device out of his jacket pocket. He studied it meticulously and with one of his keys, he pried the device open. It wasn't modern, state-of-the art technology. It looked like someone had thrown it together at the last moment, with the very first means at hand. Someone who had access to a lot of tools and spare parts to construct such a thing. Someone working in a garage, for example. Heero hated the thought that he had to suspect one of the Pârvulescu brothers. Alexandru was too obvious, perhaps; he had serviced the Jeep, meaning that he had the best opportunity to stick the device under the vehicle. On the other hand, Dragos and Ferenç also worked in the garage and all three brothers walked in and out, leaving the doors wide open.

The family was quite poor. Could any of the brothers have succumbed to the lure of money? Heero frowned. That left the question… who would offered money to do this? Feldschweig? No, that man was too far in the open. He wasn't afraid of showing himself and his tattoo in public, he wouldn't resort to cheap, dirty tricks like this. Heero picked the pieces apart and photographed them with his smartphone. He emailed the pictures to Zip, one of Hillary's nephews who helped out at the Manor now that his uncle was otherwise occupied. He had quite the knowledge on tools and computers, and he could help Heero to identify the used materials. Heero drummed with his fingers on the desk. If it wasn't Feldschweig, who else could it be? The same people who had slashed the tires of their Jeep? Heero didn't want to worry about it on his own. He wanted Duo's opinion on this. Checking his watch, he realized that they had totally skipped lunch. He wasn't sure how much more time Duo needed at the library, but his own stomach rumbled. A late lunch would be ideal to catch up.

* * *

At the library, Heero was going to search for Duo at the scanners, copiers and printing machines, but to his surprise, he noticed Duo at the library café as he walked by. His conspicuous braid was ideal to identify him, even if he was sitting with his back to Heero. To his even greater surprise, he was in the company of a handsome young woman with shoulder-length dark-brown hair, clad in a woolen dress. Her face wasn't familiar to him and his curiosity was piqued. Heero entered the café and walked over to Duo's table.

"There you are!" Duo smiled up at him. "Did you manage to find a hotel?"

"A very suitable one," Heero gave a neutral answer.

"Heero, may I introduce you to Lauren White? Lauren, this is Heero Yuy."

"Ah, the boyfriend has finally arrived," she quipped and extended her hand. Heero accepted it and made sure to shake it firmly; not that he had anything to fear of her, but to let her know that Duo was _his_ , in a subtle, territorial way. She didn't flinch. "Nice to meet you, Heero."

"Nice to meet you too, Lauren."

"Lauren is an international communication and media student," Duo said. "I met her at the spa in Çleçiani."

Heero arched an eyebrow. "And now in Bucharest?"

"I'm in my final year, writing a paper on Eastern-European relations. The Balkan Peninsula has always been a hotbed of complicated conflicts, and this library is one of the best sources of my research." She looked at him as if she dared him to comment on it, but Heero wasn't in the mood for games. He noticed the empty coffee cups on the table.

"Did you had lunch yet, Duo?"

"No, just coffee," he answered. "We make quite a habit of skipping lunch, don't we? The café only serves pastry or cookies, and I can't survive on sugar only."

Lauren packed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "I wouldn't dream of interrupting your plans for lunch," she said in a pleasant tone of voice. "Maybe we'll meet again?"

"Maybe," Duo said and she winked at him. She passed by Heero without saying another word, and he didn't offer any goodbyes either. Duo scratched the back of his head. "Something the matter?"

"No, everything's all right." Heero watched Lauren's retreating back.

"I know what you're thinking," Duo said, "and I don't like it any better than you do."

"Let's not discuss it here," Heero said. "Lunch first, I'm famished."

Duo chuckled. "It's actually very rare for you to say that. Do you know a good place where we can eat?"

"Anywhere but here," Heero said dryly. "I don't like sugar at all."

Forty minutes later, they had found a small, family-driven restaurant and had their lunch. Duo put down his cutlery after emptying his plate, grinning.

"That was delicious! Really savory."

Heero agreed. He hadn't mentioned anything about the locating device yet, as he didn't want to ruin lunch. Now that they both had eaten, he decided it was the right time to tell Duo all about it. After hearing the news, Duo's mood soured.

"I can't believe it," he said. "I refuse to believe that any of the Pârvulescu brothers is responsible for this, and I certainly refuse to suspect Alexandru." He grumbled in annoyance. "Ever since we started this… mission, people have been following… no, stalking us. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Heero grimaced, "but it's getting more personal, Duo. They, whoever 'they' are, want to keep exact tabs on us, they want to know where we are and what we do."

"I said it before, and I'll say it again: t feels like we've just opened one big, stinking snake pit."

"Yes, but more and more innocent people are getting involved," Heero said. "Mila. Branka. Lauren. I'm not sure if she's innocent, but she's also involved - I don't believe in two 'coincidental' meetings. She could be persuaded, by money or by intimidation, just like Grigore Jankoviç."

"Agreed. Maybe one of the Pârvulescu brothers has been persuaded as well, it's hard to say no to a guy like Feldschweig. I read a couple of chapters from his book…" Duo shuddered. Heero reached for Duo's hand, not caring if anyone saw it or not. "You'll be safe," he said vehemently. "That man will never lay a finger on you."

"I love it when you're so protective," Duo said, half-jokingly, half-serious. He put his other hand on top of Heero's. "And that man will never lay a finger on _you_ , either."

"I know. We can't assume it's him, however. Not unless we have any proof. I wish I could research fingerprints…"

"We're not crime scene investigators, Heero." Duo got interrupted by loud beeps, coming from Heero's smart phone.

"That has to be Zip," Heero said. "I asked him to take a look at the materials used to build the locating device." He pulled the smart phone out of his pocket and checked his messages. "It's Zip indeed. He reports there's nothing out of the ordinary," he mumbled. "No uncommon traits or specifications. A dead end."

"Anyone could've assembled it and given it to Alexandru or any of his brothers to attach it to the Jeep."

"True." Heero put his smart phone away again. He tilted his head towards the shoebox on the table. "What about the letters?"

"I've scanned them all and send them off to Howard. He'll report back to me as soon as the software's done translating them, of course. If necessary, Howard will hire a native Romanian to help out."

"I hope that the letters will shed some light on the weird things going on in Brasov county," Heero said, but he didn't sound like he held too much hope. "And we still haven't made any progress on the paintings."

"I want to relax," Duo said. "Go to the movies, a theatre, a show. I want to forget about Nazi-wannabes, strange women and locating devices for tonight."

"Sounds perfect to me. Our hotel room has a really large bathtub. Why don't you start there first…" Heero amused himself with the thought, "…while I'll search for tickets online. What would you like to see? An action movie, an opera, a play? I'm sure that Bucharest has all kinds of entertainment to offer."

"I'll leave it entirely up to you," Duo batted his eyes at Heero. "Surprise me, my love."

"Then let's get out of here," Heero said. "We'll double our efforts tomorrow. Tonight's for us, and for us only."


End file.
